Second Chances
by misundersnape
Summary: By chance Severus meets a Muggle woman who piques his interest.  She offers something unique, something he's not encountered before in the Magical world.  DE, Voldy and Horcrux hunt. HBP compliant & beyond, some events in book six feature, but another POV
1. Chapter 1  Encounter

All that you recongnise as JK Rowling's is hers alone - I'm just playing with the product of her brilliance!

**Second Chances**

**Chapter 1**_ - Encounter_

Phoebe was walking home from work, she was a little late tonight. Normally, she would have been home about twenty minutes ago, before it got dark, but today she was almost out of light. She would ordinarily have taken the long way around the block as it was the safest way to go, however, as darkness was imminent, she had decided to cut through the narrow alleyway. This particular alleyway cut in a sort of lopsided T shape through the large block of derelict flats, with one of the arms emerging significantly closer to her house; it would shave at least ten minutes off her journey home. She would regret her decision.

Before entering, she peered down into the darkness: not that she could see the full length of the thoroughfare ahead of her, but just to allay her own sense of foreboding. The streets weren't known for their safety after dark regardless of whether she took the shortcut or the long way home, so the thought of reducing her time on them and arriving home sooner had its appeal.She swallowed and decided to just get it over with - quickly.

Phoebe stepped into the shadows, treading lightly and quickly extending her arm to the side and tracing her fingers lightly on the rough old bricks that formed the exterior walls of the aged buildings until she reached the intersection. Glancing both right then left and noting to herself that the alley was indeed empty,she turned on the spot to face the right hand direction. Phoebe looked up toward the top of the building, mentally noting there were about five stories looming above her. She could not see the sky through the smog and frowned to herself. She missed the stars, it had been a long time since she had seen them. Her eyes glistened in the dull, almost non existent light, then she abruptly closed them, huffed a deep breath and opened them again. The darkness seemed more dense in this confined space and it was quite cool. An odd prickle travelled down her spine, but it was not the temperature that made her suddenly shiver. Every nerve in her body seemed to be on edge, tingling - and she suddenly felt this was not the most intelligent thing she had done of late.

In the distance she spied the glow of light from the street lamp. If she could just make it there, everything would be fine from then on. She frowned again, it seemed a long way away. Phoebe went to take a step, but suddenly she stopped, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, she whipped her head around to survey the passage behind her and then the way she had come…maybe she should turn around: but there wasn't any obvious danger. She noted to herself that the path back remained clear and somehow seemed brighter, and then turned her head toward the street lamp, but it too was clear, as far as she could see. Rolling her eyes at herself and taking a deep breath, she shrugged off her paranoia; she was wasting time, and it was getting darker by the minute. "Just bite the bullet and go," she urged herself.

When she was only several metres away from the street, she broke into a anxious trot, and a few meters further she let out an audible sigh, muttering a relieved, "Nearly there," to nobody: yet someone answered.

"Yes, you were," came a man's voice ominously, as he stepped out in front of her from the street and moved toward her menacingly. Phoebe stopped dead. Her heart rate increasing immediately and she began to step backwards instinctively as he neared her.

"What do you want?" she blurted out in a shaky voice, although in the back of her mind she knew of only two things a man such as this could want from her; probably both.

"Here!" Phoebe panicked, shoving her handbag towards him, gasping as the man drew threateningly close despite her retreat.

"Yes, that as well…" came the man's sinister response, snatching the bag from her outstretched hand. Phoebe's mind registered shock as he threw it to the corner of the alley and lunged at her, grabbing her by her wrist.

Phoebe struggled against his hold, prompting him to seize her other wrist. He was so strong. "No!" she yelled at him, casting around for some way to get out of the situation. He was so strong.

The man flung her against the wall, and she hit the back of her head on the hard bricks letting out a scream of agony. As he released her right wrist, she brought her hand up to the back of her head groaning loudly at the throbbing pain. Her vision swam for a moment and she gasped in a breath, momentarily feeling as though she might pass out. Her head felt tender and already she felt the beginnings of a lump growing under her hair. She then felt her attacker pulling at her blouse beneath her open coat, hearing and feeling it tear open at the buttons.

"NO!" she screamed again, louder this time, and whipped her free hand around and slapped her assailant across his face.

The man recoiled slightly at her blow, but then straightened, a frightening snarl screwing up his features. Phoebe sobbed in fear, knowing instinctively that she had only managed to provoke her attacker into further violence. She tried to pull away from him, clawing at his fingers that held her, but he still maintained a painfully tight grip on her left wrist. She saw it coming but could not do anything to stop it. The man brought back his arm and punched her hard in the face. The force of the hit sent her crashing once again into the brick wall, and she sank down to the footpath, holding her face in her hands. It hurt so much that she could barely breathe. Something dripped onto her hand; she was bleeding.

Suddenly she felt her legs being yanked out from under her until she was lying flat on the ground. Evidently he hadn't finished with her yet. He was tugging at her legs, at her clothing. He was going to rape her and she knew she could not prevent it.

Phoebe mustered some courage from somewhere deep and shoved him with her hands to try to push him off, crying out desperately, "Stop!" At least she wasn't going to make it easy for him, but…

He was so strong.

She felt his hot breath on her face as he pushed her hands to the ground above her head and held them there with one of his own and pinned her legs to the ground with a knee in her thigh. She was now helpless, completely at the man's mercy.

"Please… don't," she begged in a whispered sob, appealing to his conscience for compassion, tears rolling from her eyes and mixing with the blood from the large gash on her cheek which travelled in discoloured rivulets down past her ear. But the man merely sneered nastily at her pleading, an expression of deranged excitement only growing in his eyes.

Her sobs turned to wails and Phoebe closed her eyes, inconsolably resigned to the inevitable.

All of a sudden, Phoebe caught an unfamiliar phrase, forcefully spoken. Her eyes flew open to witness her attacker thrown from her, the expression on his face displaying pure shock as he crashed forcefully into the opposite wall of the alley in a flash of red light.

Phoebe was aching all over, and more than a good bit petrified, but quickly forced herself to sit up, tugging at her skirt to restore her modesty. 'What just happened?' she thought confused. She glanced over to her assailant and to her relief Phoebe saw that he lay unmoving along side the far wall. 'How did that happen?' she again questioned briefly. She began to inch away from him regardless, but a tiny movement at the entry of the alley startled her. She looked up and saw another man - the owner of the forceful voice, she decided. He seemed to be wearing a long cloak, and all in black, although the darkness made it difficult to tell. His stance bespoke rage, and his arm stood out rigidly from his body clutching a wan---a stick. She blinked stupidly. 'I must be hallucinating,' she thought. Phoebe returned her hands to her battered face once more. She was starting to hurt again; beginning to feel dizzy and somewhat sick.

Phoebe sensed the new man arrive next to her and felt him as he put a hand on her arm. 'Well, the man was real, at least,' she reassured herself.

"Come, you must not stay here," came a deep, silky voice. He helped pull her to her feet by supporting her elbows, and Phoebe discovered he was quite tall. She saw, as the light from the street lamp briefly fell on his face, that he had shoulder length dark hair and dark eyes. She also noted, without judgment, that he had a hooked nose.

Phoebe observed that her attacker had not yet moved from where he fell. 'He must be unconscious,' she thought. She suddenly felt her head become even more dizzy and was beginning to sway dangerously. She reached behind her to the wall for support: instead the dark man caught her deftly around her waist. This action drew her attention to her blouse which was gaping wide open and she clutched at it to hold it closed, but as it was torn the edges continued to slip from her shaky fingers. He observed her attempt and she saw him withdraw the same _stick_ he had brandished earlier. She heard him mutter something under his breath, and her blouse instantly repaired before her eyes.

Phoebe gasped, confusion and panic setting in; she pushed the man away, her eyes wide, her arms searching frantically for the wall for support. When they found the cold, hard, rough surface, she shuffled along it trying to get away from him, but was hampered by her feet which felt heavy and refused to do what they were told. And she was beginning to feel alarmingly sick now.

Phoebe barely registered as he cursed impatiently to himself. Then he stepped towards her. "Stop. Allow me to help you!" the voice commanded.

"How the…what? How…?" Phoebe's voice shook with fear, thoughts failing to form sentences in her month. Suddenly the man on the ground stirred. Phoebe's panic increased; she swore and tried to run.

The dark man reached out and grabbed her wrist. She tried to fight him off; tears of desperation running down her face, "No…" she cried, but... he was so strong. She stumbled, her knees giving way beneath her. She cowered, sobbing on the footpath; She could not prevent the assault, she may as well just let him have his way.

The dark man's hands, still grasping her wrist, held her, preventing her from slumping completely over. "Stop this! I will not hurt you. We must leave, come!" that commanding voice again, although with a bite of impatience this time, like a douse of cold water.

Phoebe felt his strong arms slide around her waist again and struggled to regain her self control. 'This man is a different man, he hasn't hurt me. No, this man _saved_ me!' An ounce of reason crept back into her mind. She would allow him to lead her away and she will deal with the other stuff later.

Phoebe submitted to him, allowing the dark man to assist her to stand and leaning against his body, he quickly led her away from the alley and down the street; his arms supporting her all the way.

They did not stop until they were three blocks away. The man sat Phoebe down on a step. She had been complaining about needing to throw up. As soon as he had straightened himself after setting her down, she did indeed throw up - all over his shoes. He immediately took a step back from her, Phoebe noticing his sigh of distaste and exasperation, though she felt too ill to really care just then. She sat there with her eyes closed, shaking, pale and sweating for another couple of minutes, breathing deeply.

She assumed it was the shock and pain of her injuries that had caused her to feel physically ill, as it seemed to be subsiding now; she felt the cool night air swirl around her face. She lifted her head and saw that the man was standing a little way off with his back turned to her. He seemed to be keeping watch. Phoebe moved her hand to her face to feel the damage and exclaimed softly at the pain. The dark man, alerted by her sound, approached and stood next to her.

"Do you feel better now?" he asked, his deep voice filled with interest, though not necessarily concern.

"A little," Phoebe replied weakly. "I'm sorry I was sick on you," she added, horrified and apologetic.

"No matter, I have cleared it up."

Phoebe now noticed his shoes were spotlessly clean again. She felt a little uneasy about it for some reason, but the sound of his voice speaking again wiped the detail from her thoughts.

"We should be going." Phoebe thought he sounded vaguely like a dinner guest making a polite departure. "Do you live near here?" he continued.

Phoebe hesitated… she wasn't sure she wanted this man to know where she lived. "Yes," she eventually conceded.

"Show me. I need to get you somewhere safe so I may attend to your injuries," he urged.

"Attend?" Phoebe queried, unsure of what he meant.

"Come… now is not the time. Which way to your house?" he said, more urgently this time.

Phoebe had a bad headache developing and didn't feel up to arguing. "This way," she said, indicating with her hand.

The dark man helped Phoebe up once again, supported her with his arm, and together they headed in the direction Phoebe indicated.

Phoebe was very aware of his warm body against hers, his breathing even and controlled in contrast to her own rapid, shallow breaths. She was glad his steady, strong arm was supporting her, as she was trembling and felt sure if he let her go she would crumple to the ground in a heap. She huffed out a sigh, and felt the man grasp her a little tighter, as if he suspected she was likely to do just that.

Ten minutes later, after a few turns, they arrived in front of her house. Phoebe reached habitually for her handbag which, to her distress, was absent from her shoulder.

"I don't have my bag; the keys are in there…" she flailed.

"I do not need the keys," the dark man answered nonchalantly.

"…he'll have my address and keys and everything…" Phoebe worriedly continued until she registered what he had just said, "…what do you mean you don't need the keys?"

The dark man moved up to the door and brandished the _stick_ again. Another soft murmur and the house door swung open gently. Phoebe watched this somewhat convinced she was seeing things that weren't real … but then again …

"How did you do that?" she asked, getting nervous again.

"I am a wizard; it is magic."

Phoebe's jaw dropped, but she was ushered inside the house before she could refuse. "What…a wizard? Oh my God, really…? Show me!" she said, rounding on the man as he shut the door behind them. Phoebe knew she sounded stupid and disbelieving, but she needed to see again.

"Momentarily," said the man, a little impatiently this time. "Here, let me see your face."

Phoebe reached for her face, her cheek throbbed and had swollen significantly and her lower lip stung as her fingers brushed over what felt to be a split.

"Do not touch," the dark man ordered, taking her hand in his to prevent her disobeying him, "you may cause them to start bleeding again."

He led her to the couch and crouched down in front of her, stabilising himself by resting one knee on the carpeted floor. He placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her face gently toward the light so that he might examine it properly. "There is not too much damage, I can easily heal these," he announced, then he retrieved his instrument and pointed it toward her wounds…

"No! Don't… what are you doing with that… stick?" Phoebe exclaimed, trying to bat it away and leaning away from him. She was becoming fearful once more.

"Wand," the man corrected with exasperation, lowering the instrument, a slight crease on his forehead. "Believe me…" the man then spoke calmly, his silky voice seeming to contain a hint of menace, "… if I wanted to hurt you, you would stand _no_ chance against me." He had finished this statement with what seemed like an almost perverse pleasure.

Phoebe looked up to his glinting dark eyes with alarm, taking in a sharp breath. "But you don't?" she questioned, with a kind of uncertain pleading.

"No, I do not," he answered, curtly, any evidence of a menacing tone or malevolent glint now completely absent.

Phoebe breathed a relieved sigh, but with her unease abating only a little, she sought further reassurance from the man. "It would help if you were more forthcoming with me, you know."

"Indeed," the man drawled. "Well, you wanted a demonstration of magic… so here it is." He lifted his wand toward her again.

Phoebe was somewhat taken aback by his brusque tone, and she found herself unable to find another reason to evade his adamant offer of help. "Well, will it hurt?" she queried, surrendering to him, lowering her hands.

The man contemplated for a few moments then answered, "It sometimes burns a little or tingles, but no, it will not hurt."

Without waiting, he directed his wand toward her individual wounds, and once again, muttered a few incomprehensible words. He was right, it did both burn and tingle, however it did not hurt.

Tentatively, Phoebe touched her face where she knew she'd had injuries, it no longer stung and the skin felt smooth once again. He had healed her!

"Are you injured anywhere else?" he queried.

"He threw me into the bricks," she said, reaching for the lump she had felt begin to grow beneath her hair at the back of her head.

Again he took hold of her hand to prevent her from touching. "Let me see."

Phoebe twisted in her seat and allowed him to kneel on the couch beside her to look closer.

It stung as he parted her hair and she flinched. He placed a hand on her upper arm momentarily to encourage her to remain still. "You have a gash here also," he explained, "keep still." A moment later and the stinging had disappeared.

The man moved back to face her, "Any others?"

"No that's all… thanks." she replied quickly. She did not want his attentions on the bruises she was sure were developing on her upper thigh and groin area.

Phoebe noticed he had a small frown on his face, and as she looked into his eyes, she was momentarily overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. Eventually she was able to flick her eyes away from his and observed that his expression now appeared satisfied.

"Any _bruises_ will heal with time, it is only cuts and grazes that require attention," he informed her.

Phoebe blinked in surprise, 'Did he just put a distinct emphasis on the word 'bruises'?' She looked back to his face. He was no longer looking at her, but did seem to have a smug look on his face. Phoebe looked away again, confused. 'It's almost as if he just read my mind,' she thought, but not really believing it was possible. Her head gave a throb and she made a small groan and rubbed her temples, forgetting altogether about the incident.

The dark man had flicked his eyes back over her, "You have a headache?" he queried.

She nodded.

"It should dissipate within an hour or so, as will any swelling. If the pain is really bad I can make something for it, though," he offered.

"I'll be fine, it's not that bad." They sat in awkward silence for the next several moments.

"So, um … wizards really exist then?" Phoebe asked, although it was more of a statement than a question.

"It seems so," came the lazy reply.

They were both silent again, Phoebe not knowing what next to say, although '_Wow!' _was echoing around her head.

Finally she decided on, "Thank you... for everything you did tonight... I couldn't have stopped him on my own," she said, hesitantly looking to him, and fighting back a few threatening tears at the frightening memories of the early evening's events.

"Yes, I know," he replied gruffly, though quiet, staring at a point over her shoulder, then flicking his gaze directly to her eyes, "Think nothing of it."

But Phoebe thought a lot of it. She managed to get control of her emotions and gave him a small smile.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Phoebe said, suddenly remembering her manners and standing up to go into the kitchen. The vertical movement left her momentarily dizzy and her head throbbed painfully, she gasped and reached out suddenly for something on which to support herself, gratefully finding the man's outstretched hand. The man then quickly stood along side her and steadied her further with his other hand on the small of her back.

"Sit… I will get the tea, stay here and rest." Phoebe sat.

Next thing she knew, the man returned from the kitchen with steaming hot tea, in just one mug. He was not gone nearly long enough to have prepared it the regular way, she was sure.

"I must go," he announced as he handed her the tea. "As you said earlier your handbag contains all your details; I had better retrieve it." He looked vaguely in the direction of the alley. "I will not return it tonight," he continued, "I have somewhere I need to be. However, I will be sure it gets to you."

"Oh… um…" stammered Phoebe, as she turned to place the mug on the coffee table. "Well… thank you… but," Phoebe went to rise but he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I will show myself out," he said. "I recommend you take things slow this evening."

"Okay, but wait…" she called to him as he moved toward the door. "I don't know your name. I'm Phoebe, Phoebe Hansen."

The dark man stopped and turned back to her. "Severus Snape," he said, inclining his head. In the time it took Phoebe to nod in reply, he had proceeded to the door, opened it and was gone.

Phoebe rose slowly and walked to the window. She heard a faint pop just before she opened the curtain, but when she looked outside to watch him walk away, he was nowhere to be seen.


	2. Chapter 2  Indiscrection

This story moves quite swiftly, so if things feel they are happening too fast, it's just the nature of the story. All JK Rowling's work belongs only to her - I'm just playing with it. Please review!!

**Chapter 2**_ - Indiscretion_

Phoebe had recovered fully by the next morning, she'd had a good nights rest. After she had drunk her tea, she had become very sleepy and had barely made it to her bed before falling into a deep dreamless slumber.

'It was a wonder I did sleep so well,' she thought curiously. She had been very worried about the missing keys, wallet and its contents and what that may have meant if the man who had attacked her had it in his possession.

She absent mindedly picked up the empty mug from the previous night and proceeded to take it into the kitchen when it dawned on her that Mr Snape could have possibly put something in the tea the night before to make her sleep so well. But would he carry sedatives around with him? She doubted it, it was a silly thought…. but then again, he was a wizard, she'd had more than enough proof of that last night. Even if he had put something in the tea, she was convinced that he had probably done the right thing in the end. She set the mug down on the sink and put it from her mind.

The following day, Sunday, Phoebe was just hanging around the house doing nothing much in particular. In fact, she was still so shaken from the incident on Friday night that she had persuaded herself she didn't actually need to go out at all. She had wondered how long it would take her to get over it, or if she _ever_ would. But she still had bills to pay, so she did need to go to work on Monday, and make her way home. Perhaps she'd need to take a taxi for a few weeks until she plucked up the courage to walk again. One thing she knew, she'd never take another short cut again. She shuddered at the thought of what could have ---no--- what _would_ have happened if Severus Snape hadn't been there to prevent it.

Phoebe's mind turned to the dark man of a couple of nights ago. He had an unusual name, Severus Snape, and he was a _wizard_. She was amused at how readily she accepted the shocking news that such a thing was actually true. A world of fantasy, come to life. 'And _he_ was one for fantasy,' she thought, with a giggle. Tall, dark, and relatively handsome. An enigma, to be sure. Very mysterious. Her breath had quickened slightly at the thought of him. And his voice… sensuous…

A knock at the door brought her back to reality. She stood and made her way to the door and opened it. She took a sharp breath as she realised it was none other than Severus Snape himself.

"Good morning," his silky voice uttered.

'Oh God, that voice!'

Phoebe blushed and stammered, "Mr Snape… ah… oh… come in, please." She moved to the side of the entrance to allow him to walk past, his cloak billowing slightly behind him.

The blush was not lost on the man. Phoebe noticed him tilt his head a little as he obviously noted her reaction and contemplated its meaning, a tiny smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. 'Pull yourself together,' she reprimanded herself, embarrassed even further.

"I took the trouble to return your bag to you, Ms Hansen," he said as he held out the handbag for her to take.

"Oh, thank you," she replied, opening it to check its contents.

"It is all there, he had not moved until after I returned," he explained.

She stopped searching it and looked up at him, wondering briefly at his choice of words - 'until' - what had he done to the man in the alley? It didn't matter, she decided, whatever he had done, that filth deserved it. Phoebe trusted the man in front of her; he could so easily have taken advantage of her the other night, but he hadn't. She smiled at him… he had taken the time to bring her bag back to her. She was sure that with his _talents_ it wasn't necessary to actually do it in person… yet here he was.

"Please, stay for a drink this time, I owe you that much," she appealed.

"Thank you, though I can only stay a short while," he answered.

She led him into the sitting room and asked, "Tea? Coffee?"

"Thank you, tea will be fine."

Phoebe placed her handbag on the cabinet against the wall and went into the kitchen and prepared two cups of tea. She called into the sitting room, "So, how many wizards are there in the world?"

It was a bold question, but Phoebe sensed that if she didn't ask these questions she would never know. Mr Snape did not seem the forthright type, after all.

"Many, but if you are asking a percentage as to the rest of the population, then perhaps it would be around five percent," he answered.

"Oh," she uttered, surprised she received an answer. She hadn't thought that far ahead… what was wrong with her?

"May I inquire about your accent?" he asked, seeming genuinely interested.

"Australian," she answered, "I try to hide it, but I guess I've failed miserably."

"Don't," he implored. "It is pleasant to hear some difference."

"Oh… okay," though the second the words left her mouth, she reprimanded herself again. 'Don't be so eager to please!'

Phoebe returned to the sitting room with the two mugs and offered one to the man and sat down. He thanked her and they both drank in silence for several moments, though she did notice him surreptitiously observing her; subtle, curious glances directed her way. She secretly hoped he would respond to what she thought had to be quite obvious signs of her interest in him - especially under his astute scrutiny. Still, Phoebe was feeling very uncomfortable; it had been many years since she had found herself in the company of a man whom she fancied and she was out of practice. Hurriedly, she explored the ways to entice him in her head and had decided on a path when he spoke.

"Ms Hansen, I generally like to adopt the direct approach, I have not much time for games -"

'Did he just read her mind again?'

"- I find you intriguing and would like to get to know you better, if you would agree."

Phoebe almost choked on her tea in her hurry to answer, "Yes… yes, I'd like to get to know you too." The man flicked his dark eyes over her quickly, they were narrowed slightly in contemplation, accompanied by the smallest of frowns, but soon he returned his attention to his tea.

After another moments silence, "So, why don't we start with your age then?" Phoebe prompted and flashed him a smile.

"Thirty-six."

"Well that's just about perfect, as I'm thirty-two," she responded, with another flirtatious grin.

Suddenly the man was on his feet and moved in front of her. He took her mug from her hands, which were by now trembling slightly, and placed it on the coffee table. He took her hands and helped her rise. Phoebe's breathing increased; he was so close… she took in his scent (masculine yet subtle); if he wanted her she had no will power to refuse. It had been such a long time.

"Forgive me if I am being… presumptuous," he simply said. The dark man then bent slightly and sought out her lips with his own, kissing her lightly at first and then more passionately when she responded.

Phoebe wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself to him. A small moan escaped her lips… "I'm yours," she whispered, completely entranced and entirely vulnerable.

"Not yet," he whispered in reply and reached up for her wrists, bringing them down in front of her. "I must go." And with a satisfied air, he swept to the front door and let himself out.

Phoebe stood there, breathing hard, tingling all over, long after she heard the tiny _pop_ from outside. 'Would he be back? _When_ would he be back? Oh, good God, what a man!'

Phoebe could not concentrate for the rest of the day. There was so much to wonder about the man who had saved her, so much she didn't know about his kind. All she had managed to find out about him, despite it being his idea that they get to know each other, was his name, age and the fact that he was undeniably a wizard. She vaguely wondered on the extent of his powers, and briefly contemplated the possibility he had used them on her; she was captivated by him, and it was so unlike her. Although, she admitted, even she did not really know herself any more. Everything she had thought she _was_ had been stripped from her on one rainy night.

How on earth was she going to work tomorrow with images of _him_ floating through her mind uninvited every few seconds? How she wished she had someone to confide in, someone to giggle with. She hadn't managed to make any close friends yet, though she admitted it was deliberate. It was just easier to remain distant from others so she did not have to rehash her tragic story. She only wanted to forget, to pretend none of it had ever happened. That was why she had moved to England in the first place, to escape. But now the prospect of a friend was becoming appealing.

A taxi ride to work the next morning drew a few raised eyebrows from her co-workers. She explained that she had been attacked walking home last Friday, though luckily there had been someone there to help. And despite the meagre distance between home and work she didn't feel confident about walking alone just yet. Most of her co-workers accepted her explanation without question; they had long since given up on befriending her. But the new girl (well newer than Phoebe anyway), Monica, hadn't quite given up on social interaction outside of work, and she correctly sensed there was more to the story.

Phoebe settled herself at her desk and began to sort the incoming mail for distribution amongst staff at the accountancy firm where she worked as a clerk. Her duties ranged from mail sorting to word processing and reception. It was unfulfilling to say the least, and positively boring at its worst. Still it was a full time job and paid reasonably well.

"So… who helped you then?" came Monica's whisper from the reception desk. "Was it a man?"

Monica was far too nosy for her own good sometimes. "Yes, actually it was," Phoebe answered back. For some reason she was dying to tell someone… anyone.

"Married?' Monica asked.

This question caught Phoebe by surprise. "I… I don't think so… no … I don't think so."

'Was he? He did kiss me.' She hadn't thought to look for a wedding ring, it just didn't occur to her… until now that is. He was of an age at which most people were spoken for in some way… but he didn't behave like it. Anger started to boil within her… 'He wouldn't do _that_ to her… would he?'

"So are you going to see him again?" The girl was persistent.

The question drew Phoebe out of her personal stew, "Um… maybe, I don't know, I don't know how to get in contact with him. He has always come to my house."

"Always come?" Monica queried, a smirk forming on her face. "You mean he's come over more than once?"

'Gosh. she is good at this,' thought Phoebe. Perhaps she would need to use a little more discretion in the future around Monica.

"Er… yes… and stop that smirking!" Phoebe whispered, forcefully.

Monica giggled. "I'll say no more for now," she said, "but if anything happens with him, you make sure you let me know, okay?"

Phoebe doubted it. Perhaps confiding in a friend was a tad overrated. Phoebe then smiled to herself. If only Monica knew the half of it, about Mr Snape's talents… _all of them._

A few days passed without too many mistakes brought on by Phoebe's distraction by Mr Snape. It actually made her giggle to herself to refer to him as this, but nevertheless, she continued; 'Mr Snape', the formal title added to the dark man's esoteric persona. She wondered when she would see him again and resolved that the next time she did (if she did), the first thing she would ask is how to contact him (second would be, Is he married?). It was quite maddening not knowing how, even if she had no intention at this early stage to actually contact him herself.

The following Friday evening, after a taxi ride home, Phoebe was curled up on the couch thinking… just thinking, as she seemed to be doing a lot lately. The subject of her thoughts was again, as usual, Mr Snape. There was a lot to think about, apparently. This time however, Phoebe had been thinking specifically about her last encounter with the dark man. She had decided throughout the week that she had been far too eager with him. She didn't want to scare him away, nor she supposed, did she want him to think she was an easy, uninteresting conquest. She would control her emotions (and her urges) far more strictly next time. And, she remembered, she would get his contact number and address. 'Did he live very far?' she pondered. A firm knock at the door startled her from her musing. 'What if that's him… oh God?!'

Phoebe made her way to the door, her breathing increasing slightly, and answered it. It was indeed _him_.

"Good evening, Phoebe."

'Oh crap, that voice… and this time he'd used her name! Right, calm down…'

"Mr Snape," 'Mr Snape??,' she only just resisted a snicker. "Hello… come in … please," Phoebe moved aside once again to allow him to pass. She caught a whiff of his scent as he walked close to her… 'Oh Lord, this was going to be difficult!'

"Can I take your cloak?" she asked holding out her arms for it. 'Oh please let him be staying this time!'

"Thank you," he answered, removing his cloak in a graceful swing.

'He is staying!!!!'

Phoebe took the cloak and hung it on the coat stand next to the door. As she reached up to straighten it a little, it brushed her cheek. It was abundant with his scent, she lingered there a moment to take more of it in. When she turned she saw he had been watching her, the corners of his mouth again in that tiny smirk. She blushed.

'How on earth am I going to get through this when he keeps doing this to me?' she thought, with what she noted was extreme ease. She lifted her chin a little, she was going to be strong…

"Mr Snape - "

"Severus, please," he interjected.

"Severus… I wanted to know how I may get in touch with you," Phoebe said. 'Good girl, keep the subject away from your weaknesses. And get answers!'

"I am afraid that will not be possible," the man answered. She was slightly stunned, she hadn't expected that.

"W-what do you mean?" Phoebe asked.

"I mean, I do not have a telephone and I do not live in a place that is accessible by you."

"But how am I supposed to - "

"You cannot," he cut in.

"But…"

'Damn,' she suddenly thought, a little distressed, 'he _is_ married!' Phoebe immediately sought out his hands. There was no ring, although he would take it off obviously, however there was no evidence that he regularly wore one either. She looked up into his eyes that were staring intensely into her own, and she searched for answers from their depths.

"It is not what you think," he suggested.

She blinked a little in alarm, "And what is it that I think, Mr Snape?" Phoebe retorted, resuming the use of his surname.

"You suspect that I am… unavailable. That perhaps I am married. I am not."

'Oh my God, I think he _is _able to read my mind!' she thought, tearing her eyes away from his, though still not really believing it was possible.

"But you won't tell me where you live, or give me your contact number!" remarked Phoebe somewhat sarcastically, getting a little angry now.

"I did not say that," the man responded, slightly irritated.

"What then, what did you say? Tell me again!" Phoebe's voice increasing in volume.

"I simply said, I have no telephone number and I do not live in a place that is accessible by you," he repeated.

"And what is that supposed to mean?!" yelled Phoebe, now livid.

Suddenly the man smiled. It was not a_ happy_ smile, but it was evident he was enjoying himself. He seemed so cocky, so confident that he was in the right, that he appeared to be actually _relishing_ in the distress he so easily was able to extract from Phoebe.

"What?" she queried, angrily, "…what?" she repeated, throwing her hands up in a questioning manner.

"If you will calm down, I will explain," he stated, with a smug look.

'Damn!' She now realised from his comment that she had lost control over those emotions she had been trying so hard to contain. Only… only this time the pendulum had swung in the opposite direction. She took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she walked over to the couch and sat down.

"Explain!" she demanded, not trusting herself to broaden her comment, lest she lose it again.

Phoebe saw him pause for just a moment, in which she was positive she had just been assessed for her handling of the situation. His conclusion was unreadable. She would have to wait.

"I live and work, for the most part of the year, in a wizard institute. A school to be exact, exclusive for witch and wizard children," he stated. "The school has certain protection bestowed upon it that will not allow the discovery of it by non-magic people, _Muggles_, as we refer to them… like yourself," he explained with a small nod in her direction. "We do not use electricity or telephones, we have… other methods."

"You're a teacher?" Phoebe questioned, a little surprised. She was curious about the _other methods_ he referred to, but was now far more intrigued about what the man did for a living.

"Yes," he answered with a nod.

"What do you teach?" she asked.

"Defence against the Dark Arts."

A pause. "Defence against the Dark Arts?" she queried.

"Yes... magic is frequently used as a weapon… by unsavoury types and also various magical creatures," he explained. "One needs to be prepared, it can be quite a skill. Dark magic is prevalent and ever changing, therefore one's defenses must be flexible, shrewd and inventive."

Phoebe thought back to the alley, she had seen him in action, it was obvious he knew his craft. She looked at him admiringly and noticed his lips curl up the tiniest amount into an almost unnoticeable smile. Phoebe loved when his lips did that… she could feel herself being sucked in again and there wasn't a thing she could do about it.

Desperate to keep the subject on fact, she tore her eyes away and racked her brain for the other question she knew she'd wanted to ask, '_Married_… was he married?' No… she'd already established that fact… he said he wasn't. Too late… he was already moving. She looked up and he was standing in front of her once again. Close.

"Enough for now. I believe I have answered all your questions," he stated, and held his hand out for her to take.

Again he had seemed to read her mind… she would have to ask him about that… another time.

Phoebe took his hand and he lifted her to stand in front of him. She was in trouble now!

"You do realise it will be your turn to answer my questions next time, don't you," he said playfully, his voice seeming to vibrate right through her because of her proximity to him.

"Next time?" she queried, worried he was intending to leave so soon.

"Yes, next time," he answered, and he reached his arm around her shoulders and drew her even closer (she didn't think it possible). He then cupped her cheek in his hand and tilted her head upwards towards his. She felt one of his hands slide down her neck and caress her shoulder, then her back, as he bent slightly and kissed her. Gently at first, seeking approval, then firm, as she again responded. How could she help it? He was so controlled, and so _intense_.

'God… help me…' she thought as she succumbed to the passion that just radiated from him.

He pulled away from her after several moments… his breath now coming a little quicker, "I should go," he said huskily, the desire obvious in his voice.

"No!" Phoebe desperately implored, then she swallowed, "stay… please" she practically begged, grasping him tightly.

Evidently his show of control was a sham, he did not resist, but kissed her again, more passionately this time. She answered his urge with her own and then pulled away and started to undo his buttons on his coat and shirt (there were so many, from his neck to below his waist) and when she had undone the last of them, she pushed his shirt from his torso; it dropped to the floor.

She ran her fingers over his chest, up his neck and cupped his cheek in her hand, her fingers splayed into his hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down to kiss him again. She pressed herself against his half naked body, feeling his warm skin against her arms, drinking in his scent. The man stopped again to remove _her_ blouse. Then he kissed along her jaw, moving down her throat, past her shoulder to her collar bone. He must have reached the end of his remaining restraint when he straightened and breathed….

"Bedroom…?"

Phoebe took him by the hand and stepped backwards, leading him down the hall and into her bedroom. Once they were through the door he continued to guide her backwards, one hand on her shoulder and the other at the small of her back, and lowered her to the bed, gently pushing on her shoulders so she would relax onto the mattress and climbing up along side her.

Expertly he removed the rest of their garments and with considerable skill he had her gasping for him to satisfy her. He was extremely attentive and soon they were making love, oblivious to the outside world. Phoebe was mesmerised, entranced, she closed her eyes and submitted to the emotions and the sensations of feeling_ alive_ and _electric_. She held him, kissed him and enjoyed him, until the waves of ecstasy came crashing down over them both.

Phoebe barely remembered cuddling up to his warm body, more content than she had felt in a very long time. She fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3  Another World

As always - JK Rowling owns all her fabulous work - I don't profit from it, just play with it. Please review!

**Chapter 3**_ - Another World_

Phoebe woke early; the man was not lying next to her. She pushed herself up on her elbows.

"Severus?" she called. She liked the sound of his name as she spoke it aloud.

The man did not answer.

Phoebe rolled onto her side, propped on her left elbow and looked around the room; she could not see any trace of the man. His clothes were gone - he was gone.

After showering and dressing quickly, she scanned the rest of the house for any evidence that the man might be returning - a forgotten belonging, a note, anything - but found nothing. She wondered why he had left without waking her and worried that he might not return, at all.

Phoebe obsessively cleaned the house for the rest of the day, the thoughts of the previous evening whirling around her head; fragmented. It wasn't until late in the afternoon that she felt able to string her thoughts together.

'Was it a one night stand? Damn!' Disheartened, she scolded herself, 'I let this happen.' She had allowed herself to be swept up by the heat of the moment, without even a thought for the consequences. 'How could I be so stupid, he'd hardly even had to try! Oh, why did he do this to me? She was getting angry with the situation… with him.

Then she suddenly remembered with a jolt that the man had tried to leave last night, before their indiscretion, and in fact it was _her_ who had asked him to stay. It had not been intentional on his part.

She groaned in disbelief at herself, feeling terribly ashamed… and guilty. She should not have been so weak willed, she must have seemed so desperate…

"Oh my God, what must he think of me?" she whispered, horrified. Had she ruined it all? Would he think her _easy_ and _boring_? She sighed, putting her head in her hands. She now realised she had done, to the extreme, exactly what she had been trying so hard to avoid - to appear too eager. She had chased him away for sure. "I'm such an idiot!" she muttered in disgust.

A tear dropped from her eye and rolled down her cheek. Quickly she wiped it away and huffed a sigh, 'I wonder if I'll ever get to see him again? Damn, I think I really liked him - and now I've ruined it.' She wondered on this thought a little longer. Could she really have feelings for him already? She actually barely knew him, and he was still very much an enigma. Perhaps it was only curiosity about his special gifts, and a raw lust for his dark and dangerous countenance, that was behind these feelings she was having - there was no doubt that Phoebe was attracted to him. 'Oh, bugger!'

A knock a the door roused her from her thoughts.

As she opened the door, she was astonished to see the dark man standing on her doorstep.

"Severus!" she blurted in surprise, she definitely had not expected to see him again, let alone this afternoon. Awkwardly, she invited him in. Her embarrassment at her behaviour returned with a vengeance, her face flushing instantly. She stared intently at the floor, fighting the conflicting feelings of relief and delight that the man had come back despite her shameful display, and wishing that he had stayed away to save her humiliation.

"I'm sorry…" she said, as he also began to speak.

Phoebe lifted her head to look at him, she smiled at him sheepishly.

"What? Oh, sorry, you go first," she offered. She braced herself for the inevitable words of rejection. Quickly she wondered if maybe she could undo the damage with her confession and apology after.

"I apologise…" he said, "I should have controlled myself last night, I got carried away. I was… selfish."

She couldn't believe her ears. He was apologising for _his_ lack of self control.

"Severus… no, I am to blame, I shouldn't have pressed myself on you-" she confessed.

"No,' he interrupted, 'I knew you were struggling… I should have been more responsible, I should not have taken advantage of your vulnerability," he insisted. "No doubt you feel that things happened far too soon, do forgive me."

"Yes… well, we did get a little carried away, didn't we," Phoebe admitted, but then she hurried to explain, "Not that it wasn't nice, Severus… but … I think we should have taken more time. I mean… I _still_ think we should take more time." She caught his eye and gave him a small encouraging smile.

"Indeed, we shall then," he agreed with a nod, turning to the window though he could not see outside for the curtain. "I will not compromise your position again… until you say you are ready." Silence followed. Phoebe watched as he fidgeted nervously with the cuff of his sleeve.

"Severus?" she asked.

He turned to her, "Yes?" he answered.

"It's alright," she said, "you did nothing wrong. I am a grown woman, I made my own decisions, you aren't responsible for me."

The man nodded once and turned away to the window with his back to Phoebe. There was silence for what seemed like ages, then the dark man turned to face Phoebe again. He hesitated briefly, but then seemed to come to a decision.

"My world, the Wizarding world, is very different from the one you are used to," he said quite plainly, "if you wish to know me, you will need to be prepared for… unusual things, be accepting of who I am, what I do-"

Phoebe assumed he spoke of his magical ability and his occupation as a teacher at the Wizarding school, and was about to say that she had already accepted these things, when he continued.

"-you may need to make changes in your life, leave old ways behind." Severus approached her until he was only a few inches between them.

Confused, and a little alarmed, Phoebe found herself agreeing, "I would be prepared to do that," she assured him, though her mind struggled to keep up with her voice. What on earth did she just agree to - and why? Did she find this man so intriguing and exciting, she would do just about anything, without question? Phoebe looked up into his eyes; was he hiding something, was it more than a different world that she would need to accept? She lost herself in those eyes for a moment, the intensity of his gaze drawing her deep into his dark pools. When he looked away, a shiver ran down her spine and she felt herself gasp breathlessly. She discovered his hand had moved to the small of her back and instantly felt glad for the support.

"I know you have doubts, even though you say you are prepared," he was saying, "and there are… secrets you cannot know, and you must not ask me of them - only trust that I will tell you what I can, but no more."

'What? Secrets that she must not ask about?' Phoebe had known he was not the forthcoming type… but what in the world was she getting herself into? 'And, by the way, how does he know I have doubts?' She took a small step back from him, away from his gentle embrace, feeling that she should resume some of the control he seemed to have stripped from her because of his intense presence.

"How is it you seem to know what I'm thinking?" she asked, a little indignantly.

"I am a Legilimens," he answered, "Legilimency is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind."

"You mean you can read my mind?" Phoebe asked surprised and quite impressed at first, then as she realised the full implications of this, that she had no privacy of thought, she spat out angrily, "How many times have you read my mind?"

"Many of your feelings are expressed quite plainly on your face," he responded, "I have not done it as many times as you may think."

"How many times?!" she demanded.

"Three," he conceded, "once when I needed to be sure you were not injured in any other way by your attacker in the alley. Again when you were asking about contacting me and suspected I was married… and just now." He looked quite abashed, and almost apologetic, but he closed the distance between them once more, reaching for her hand. "It is important I know how you feel about accepting my world, the conditions… me."

Phoebe outrage softened a little at his last admission. 'He cares how I feel about him?' she thought, touched by his honesty.

"Please don't do it again," she appealed, "it… it's not… fair."

"It was… tactless, I agree," he admitted, nodding, "however there are times when I believe it is necessary. I will not do it again unless I feel it is one of those times."

"When would it be necessary?" Phoebe asked with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

"If you needed to communicate with me, but were unable to talk freely," he suggested.

"Am I likely to encounter such an occasion?" she questioned, doubting.

"It is possible, but not probable," he responded, "though Phoebe, know I will not invade your privacy again without cause, I give you my word."

Phoebe fixed her gaze on his once more, he seemed sincere, and she decided after a moment that he had not lied to her so far and she would trust that he would not start now. She took a deep breath in…

"Will you introduce me to your world?" Phoebe boldly requested, "I will accept your terms," she agreed, her stomach suddenly fluttering.

"Yes," he replied, a rare grin adorning his lips, "Come with me now, I have something I wish to show you."

Phoebe put on a light coat and picked up her handbag. She took another look around the sitting room before she shut her front door. She sensed things may seem different when she returned. It was like setting foot on an adventure, the possibilities were exciting, enticing, endless, even frightening or dangerous. Hesitating slightly, she glanced quickly between the dark man waiting for her and her closed front door. Resolving herself, she accompanied him along the footpath.

Would this be another decision she would eventually regret?

Phoebe noticed after about five minutes that they were walking in the direction of the alley in which she was attacked a little over a week ago. She became increasingly on edge the nearer they approached, until they walked right past. Phoebe moved up close to the dark man, nervously glancing behind herself every several metres. The attack had affected her confidence greatly. The man must have noticed and protectively put his arm around her shoulders. She relaxed a little at the feel of his warmth so close. 'Nothing can hurt me whilst Severus is here,' she assured herself.

They walked on until they reached the next corner and turned into a busy street. Suddenly he stopped outside a small, old wooden door, a big bookshop on one side and a record shop on the other. Phoebe would have walked right past it and not even noticed it was there. Everyone else busy shopping seemed to not notice it either, it appeared to be abandoned.

"In here," he said, and opened the door for her to walk through.

He followed right behind her as she stepped in through the doorway. On the other side was a dark and shabby room, a pub, surprisingly alive and bustling with rowdy people. People, Phoebe noticed, dressed similarly to Severus, with cloaks and robes - Wizards and Witches. Phoebe was awe struck and the dark man had to take her by the hand and lead her to the back entrance, as she had just stood there with her mouth hanging open.

"This is the Leaky Cauldron," the man whispered in her ear. "Come, there is more."

She allowed herself to be lead out the back door and into a courtyard. There was no doorway that lead any further. 'Was this it?' she wondered to herself.

Phoebe watched as the dark man withdrew his wand and tapped lightly on the bricks in a certain order, and she gasped loudly when they rearranged themselves to form an opening in the wall, revealing a busy lane way beyond.

"Oh my God… what is this place?" she asked, as she stepped through the archway onto the lane. There was so much to see all at once that she could barely take in anything.

"Diagon Alley," answered the man. "This is where the magical world conducts business, away from the prying eyes of Muggles. Our world is kept secret so we may exist without persecution," he explained.

"But you showed… me," Phoebe said, taking hold of his arm and gazing at him.

"Yes," he said, looking intently at her, "it is a part of who I am. If you are to know me, then you must know… this," he looked up at the winding street.

Phoebe turned around again and surveyed the street in front of her. "I will gladly get to know your world," she assured, smiling. She felt privileged and excited, and very happy.

The two of them spent a good hour visiting a variety of stores, each one to Phoebe, more unusual than the last. She listened as the man explained some of the ingredients in the apothecary, although she admitted she had never heard of any of them. Phoebe sensed the man had a very good understanding of the uses of the plants and substances he showed her and she had her suspicions confirmed when he arranged delivery of some for himself to _Hogwarts_.

"Hogwarts?" she queried.

"Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he explained.

He paid for his wares with a strange combination of gold and silver coins and she resolved to ask Severus to show and explain these to her at a later time.

When it was almost dark, they headed towards the archway backing onto the Leaky Cauldron. The last of the shops in Diagon Alley were closing up for the evening, but the pub was still bustling. It was difficult to move through the crowd, but eventually they meandered their way to the door and emerged onto the Muggle street. It was by now deserted, and as they rounded the corner and once again approached the small alley way Phoebe had unwisely used as a shortcut, Phoebe realised with a jar, how the man walking beside her had come to be in exactly the right place at the right time to save her when she had been attacked two Fridays previous. She reached out and put her small hand in his. She felt him squeeze firmly on her hand and felt so thankful that he had been there at that time, and also, that he was here with her now.

They had walked in silence for most of the way back to Phoebe's house and when they reached the door, Phoebe turned to the man.

"Please come in for a while," she said, and as she noted his hesitation she added, "we'll both agree to make sure nothing gets out of hand," she said with a small smile.

With a nod the man agreed.

"Well, open the door then," Phoebe ordered, a twinkle in her eye and she observed as he withdrew his wand and unlocked the door. She marvelled at his powers, at the obvious competency with which he used them and also at his dark, mysterious persona and felt a sense of anticipation--no--expectancy, that she had been chosen to embark on a journey with him. Why her, what did he see in her? She was but ordinary in her own eyes.

As they stepped into the entrance hall the man took off his cloak, reached for Phoebe's already removed coat and hung them both on the coat stand. They both moved into the sitting room and sat on the couch.

"Thank you for taking me there today," Phoebe acknowledged, "it was enjoyable and educational. I look forward to going again."

"You are welcome," he answered quietly, "and yes, I do intend to take you some other time."

"Well if I'm going to go another time, I would really like that if I saw something I liked, I could buy it," she cunningly took her opportunity, "and I did happen to notice that _my_ money would be no good there."

"Ah…" he said, amused, "you would like to spend some money. I have heard that is typical of your breed," he teased.

"Typical of my breed?" she faked indignity, "And what _breed_ would that be?"

"Woman," he answered playfully, with a smirk.

"And what would you know about women?" Phoebe retorted, chuckling. "Seriously though, I _do_ want to learn about your money," she appealed.

"Gold Galleons, silver Sickles and bronze Knuts," he explained obligingly, retrieving three different coins from his pocket, "seventeen Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it is not too difficult to remember."

"It will take some… getting used to, I think," she said, somewhat confused, holding the coins in her hand.

"I shall bring some extra for you to spend, for practice, next time," he suggested, and as she tried to hand the coins back, he offered, "Keep them, they are yours."

"Thank you," Phoebe said smiling at him, putting the coins on the side table, then she reached out and took his hand, "I really have enjoyed myself today."

The man moved closer to Phoebe on the couch and reached out with his own hand to touch her face. He looked into her eyes, "You are… perfect."

Phoebe shivered at his touch and her breathing quickened. She closed her eyes for a moment and relished the warmth of his hand on her cheek. She felt him move nearer until she he kissed her gently. She fought her urge to passionately kiss him back… then he pulled away. She opened her eyes.

"I have to go," he said. She knew why, she did not question him.

"When will you come back?" she asked, not letting go of his hand.

"I am not sure," he responded, "probably not until next weekend."

She stood up and let his hand free. He retrieved his cloak from the rack and swung it on, then returned to stand in front of her, bent down to kiss her once more and departed.

Phoebe hurried to the window and withdrew the curtain. He was just walking down the street when, with a swish of his cloak and a faint pop, he just… disappeared. 'Magic,' Phoebe thought, 'Amazing!'


	4. Chapter 4  Death Eater

All JK Rowling's characters and world belong to her, just playing with them. Now we hear things from Severus' point of view...

**Chapter 4**_** - **__Death Eater_

As Severus left the house he felt the closest to _happy_ he thought he had ever felt in his entire life.

Although…. there was still the dark cloud looming all around him, smothering - and it closed in with a vengeance the moment he had Disapparated from Phoebe's street and Apparated to just outside the gates of Hogwarts.

He made his way up to the castle, keeping to the dark shadows. It was the way he preferred it, not attracting too much attention. Now a way of life for him and his very survival depended on it. Once he had entered the castle, he headed immediately for the dungeons; to his living quarters. He disarmed the spell guarding the door, walked through and sat down in his one arm chair, leaning forward with his head in his hands. This was the one place he could relax, the one place he could be himself, express his frustration, examine his thoughts... release his normally restricted emotions.

For many minutes he just sat and thought. 'What in Merlin's name was he doing - with this woman?' He should not drag her into his life the way it was just now. Things were too unpredictable, things were too dangerous - for himself, but especially for her. 'She was a Muggle, no less,' he thought, with a amount of contempt for himself. Everything he had stood for in his past, seemed to have just been blown out the window. 'Purity of wizard blood?' he thought with a snort. Well, that was a joke wasn't it, when he himself could not even fall under the category he had once held with the highest esteem.

Severus relaxed back into his seat, leaning his head back with a groan, then taking his hands from his face. He screwed up his eyes for a moment and blew out a long, slow, calming breath through pursed lips. She is _perfect_, and as he remembered telling her so this evening, he shook his head. 'Well, she is perfect… _except_ she is a Muggle,' he reminded himself, opening his eyes. He contemplated this for a few seconds and suggested to himself, 'Perhaps she is perfect _because_ she is a Muggle?' but then scoffed at the idea. Although, he had thought Muggles as always being useless and worthless, but there seemed to be no place for thoughts like these when he referred to her. Agitated, he stood up and began to pace.

'I want her, but I cannot have her,' he thought, frustrated. Severus was too entrenched, too involved, he would be more at risk associating with her and he knew she would never be accepted.

'She is strong, but she is not a Witch.' It was true, she would have no chance against those who would seek to punish her because of him, no matter her determination.

'But she wants… _me_ … and I want her - I _need_ her. But… what if she were discovered?'

He could not think about this any more, his head was aching. He was stuck in this frustrating position that did not seem to have an end in sight, denying him of his choices, stripping him of a life that was dangling just out of reach of his fingertips.

"GRRrraahhrrrr!" he growled loudly in frustration to only the walls, snatching up a crystal goblet that just happened to be sitting on the mantle next to him, and throwing it violently at the stone wall where it smashed spectacularly.

"SEVERUS!" a stern voice bellowed. "What has happened, what is wrong?" It was Dumbledore. Severus had forgotten to recast the spell guarding the door and was so involved in his own thoughts, he hadn't heard him knock or enter.

"Headmaster," he said startled, whipping around to face the intruder. He was flustered and felt quite disconcerted to have been discovered so completely unguarded. "No… n-nothing is wrong."

"I am old Severus, but I am no fool," Dumbledore calmly remarked, though his tone suggested he was very much in charge. The old man continued to eye Severus inquisitively, "However… I will not _insist_ that you divulge what is wrong unless it is related to what I have asked of you."

Severus had managed to regather his stiff soldier composure, "It is not related, Headmaster."

"Very well, Severus.." he said slowly, the lines of his face betraying his worry for the younger wizard, "but know you can always come to me with anything that is… bothering you." Dumbledore fixed Severus's face with a kind, encouraging gaze, but the younger man refused to yield, so the older man moved on to the reason he had trekked all the way down to Severus' quarters in the first place. "Did you manage to discover any details yet?" he asked, his expression now serious.

"He is uncooperative and is avoiding me," Severus explained, "He sees me as a threat, so has not placed his trust in me as of yet."

"A threat?" Dumbledore questioned, concerned, "Are you sure he does not suspect-"

"No, I believe his pride is in succeeding - _alone_. He seems determined."

"I see. Well never mind, there will be other… opportunities, perhaps when things become more desperate for him…" Dumbledore mulled aloud, as he walked over to Severus and patted him several times softly on his upper arms, though not looking him in the eye, clearly deep in thought. "Stay safe… yes, yes," he murmured whilst nodding, more to himself than to Severus.

Dumbledore turned and walked toward the door, "Severus," he bid the younger man.

"Headmaster," Severus responded, and shut the door behind the older man as he left. Severus recast the locking spell for the door, and sighed heavily. "Reparo," he hissed, pointing his wand at the remains of the goblet, and watched as it instantly repaired and flew back to sit on the mantle.

The old man had a unique way of appealing to Severus's sense of accomplishment. Almost always after meeting with him, Severus would resolve to try harder to succeed at his task, whatever that may be. But there were times when they had disagreed, times when Severus felt Dumbledore had asked too much of him. Severus tried not to think of the last request made by the Headmaster - when they had argued. He felt the cost in succeeding this time, would far outweigh the benefits in the short term, both for him personally and for the Order. But Dumbledore had insisted he could see no other way out, there was the bigger picture at stake. War was upon them and the pieces were already set in play - all that needed to be decided was _which_ pieces would be the first to fall. That decision rested ultimately with Severus.

Determined to avoid rehashing his internal conflict over this just now, Severus returned his thoughts to the muggle woman, surprisingly more calmly this time. This decision seemed far less taxing in comparison. Resting his elbow on the mantle and rubbing his own forehead he made his choice - he would continue to see her, for the time being at least.

Severus' week began badly, on Monday some incompetent Slytherin second year students came to grief experimenting in the dungeon corridors with volatile fireworks from Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, requiring every student in the corridor to visit the hospital wing and leaving Severus to clean up the stubborn mess. And thanks to the Potter boy, by Wednesday things had become even worse. He was under enough pressure as it was, obliged to assist and protect an uncooperative Draco Malfoy, which would result in serious consequences regardless of Severus' success, but now with Potter's interference, he'd had to do some quick thinking to bring the situation back under control - Severus was not ready to make his decision yet.

The Sectumsempra spell had some devastating effects, he had recognised them immediately when he found Potter in the bathroom, with Draco bleeding profusely, as it had been one of Severus's own inventions. He had realised the only place it had been written down was in his old Advanced Potion-Making text, which he had left unwittingly in the Potions classroom when he had been awarded the new position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. However, when he had questioned the boy and searched his mind, although he was certain of the origin of Potter's new knowledge, he had failed to retrieve the book.

He was becoming careless, the situation was reaching a new, extremely explosive level, he would need to ensure absolute discretion and complete scrutiny in his every move from now on.

And to top off his week, he had been forced to give the boy detention every Saturday for the rest of the term, even though he had distinctly heard Potter say he did not know what the spell did when he had used it on Draco. Not that he felt sorry for the boy, in fact it even made himself feel better to inflict pointless punishment on James Potter's son, but he was running out of time himself to resolve the pressing issues at hand.

And then there was Phoebe…

Saturday came and went, Severus had made Potter rewrite punishment cards from roughly twenty years ago, ensuring with great pleasure that many of James and Sirius' indiscretions were included in the time range allocated. It would benefit the boy to realise his father had been no more than a childish prankster and bully, rather than the hero he had built him up to be.

The added benefit was that the detentions had prevented Potter from participating in the final game of Quidditch, allowing a greater chance for Slytherin to take the Cup this year. Of course Severus had had this in mind when he had vindictively set the detention time, however it had not turned out the way he had planned as when he finally returned to the Slytherin common room to carry out his Head of House duties he discovered that Griffindor had managed to secure the Cup regardless.

Needless to say Severus was looking forward to Sunday. He rarely had contact with the students on that day, except for his late evening Head of House duties, and this week he was positively chomping at the bit to commence his private time.

The next morning Severus rose early, as he always did, he was not one for idle time. He decided to skip breakfast in the Great hall, as this activity had the potential to bring him in contact with students and other staff members, and as Slytherin had failed to win the Quidditch Cup yesterday, he knew he would have to endure ridicule or commiserations, neither of which he wished to face right now. Instead he left the castle by the huge oak doors and strode to the outer gates, Disapparating just beyond the boundary.

He reappeared around the corner from the Leaky Cauldron. One might assume it would be easier to Apparate directly into Diagon Alley, but it was often too crowded and there was the risk of Apparating directly on top of, or into, somebody else - which could end with disastrous results. So Severus usually chose the frequently vacant street around the corner. Severus walked confidently and purposefully toward the Leaky Cauldron. The man had every intention from the time he left Hogwarts, to call upon Phoebe, however as it was still early he had decided to have breakfast at the pub first. When he was almost finished he felt a hand on his shoulder. As he turned in his chair quickly, he found himself looking into the eyes of a woman with long blond hair and a pointed face.

"Narcissa! What are you doing here?" he whispered somewhat harshly, scraping back his chair and pulling the thin woman into the shadows against the wall. "We should not be seen together," he said scanning the room, finding that other than the barman who was busy wiping down a table across the room and an old Warlock drinking a cup of tea whilst reading the newspaper, they were the only occupants of the pub at the current time.

"Severus, I knew you frequently came here on Sundays, I remember Lucius saying so one time. I had to talk with you. How is Draco? Is he coping? Is he succeeding with his attempt?" Narcissa launched the questions at him quickly, in a whispered voice.

"Narcissa, Draco is resisting my assistance. I do not know what he has planned. Have you not spoken with him?" Severus hissed quietly.

"He did not return home at Christmas time, I have not seen him or spoken to him," she began, tears filling her eyes. "If he is refusing to let you help Severus, he will fail," Narcissa responded, becoming slightly hysterical.

Severus grabbed Narcissa by the upper arm and guided her quickly to the door of the pub and out onto the Muggle street. It was still early, but there were a number of employees of the normally busy shopping district milling about the street, waiting for the doors to be opened so they could begin work. He maintained his grip on the Witch's arm and pushed her up the street and around the corner into the darker, deserted street he had Apparated into earlier.

He let go of her arm and said, "Narcissa, you will need to speak to Draco, tell him to trust me. I cannot help him if he will not trust me. His success will be out of my hands."

The woman began to sob, "Severus, you made the Unbreakable Vow…"

"I am aware of the vow I made," he spat at her, "you do not think I take it seriously? I have tied my own _life_ to Draco's success, I have more riding on this than you yourself," he hissed angrily.

"He is my only son…" the tears now flowing down her cheeks.

"Then help me help him!" he snapped. "Talk to him, make him see sense. There is nothing more I can do," and he began to walk away.

"Then you do it, before he tries," she threw at him, "… before he has a chance to fail."

Severus turned back to the sobbing woman, "The Dark Lord wishes him to try first, you know that, there is nothing else I can do unless he confides in me," he said, quietly but firmly. "Go home Narcissa - convince him."

Severus turned away a second time and continued his way back to the Leaky Cauldron. He walked swiftly toward the pub door, but before he got there, he noticed Phoebe getting out of a taxi adjacent to the pub's door. She smiled at him when she recognised him and began to approach. He stopped dead, cursing inwardly. Had Narcissa heeded him and gone straight home? Or was she behind him, witnessing Phoebe's approach?

"Do you know her?" he heard Narcissa's voice drawl. His stomach dropped, although his face maintained it's usual nondescript composure. She had obviously recovered her own, normally confident and snide disposition since their conversation and was returning to the Leaky Cauldron as he was.

"No," he drawled over his shoulder to her, "she was asking for the time," and he shot Phoebe a sneering glare, praying it would be enough to keep her from continuing her advance.

"The time?" Narcissa spat amused, sauntering in front of Severus, glowering at the other woman who had stopped in her tracks, the smile instantly vanishing from her face. "We have no _time_ for you… Muggle," she said, nastily. "Come Severus, I have no desire to stand here with filth," she insisted, turning and snatching up his hand, pulling him seductively back into the pub.

Severus had tried to catch Phoebe's eye before Narcissa had led him through the door, but she had looked away, seemingly crestfallen. Unfortunately Narcissa must have noticed as she turned on him once on the other side of the door.

"You _do_ know her, don't you?" she sneered, her eyes narrowing in accusation. "I saw the way she looked at you - and the way you reacted."

"You are imagining things, Narcissa. _It_… was a _Muggle_," he answered, with a convincing sneer, spitting out the last word with vehemence. He leant down and hissed malevolently in her ear, "In case you have forgotten, I.. am a _Dea-th_.. Eater."

Severus roughly brushed past the blond woman, leaving her standing in the pub, her mouth slightly open in surprise, as he swept, cloak billowing behind him, to the rear door that lead to the courtyard and Diagon Alley beyond. He hoped he had convinced Narcissa that she had been mistaken about what she had observed with Phoebe, but he could not be sure. He could not have suspicion cast on him again, he could not risk another incident like this. There was no room for Phoebe in his life just now. It was quite obvious to him now, it was just too… difficult, too dangerous.

Once he was in the sparsely populated Diagon Alley, he rubbed his fingers over his forehead as he strode furiously along the winding cobblestone street. He would need to fix this, Phoebe would be waiting now for an explanation, he felt sure. Severus considered just letting her be, never seeing her again, but no, he couldn't, he would need to end it properly, he owed her that much. He was no coward, he would explain that it was his fault, that he should never have allowed the relationship in the first place. Severus let out a roar of frustration that caused a little old witch a few metres from him to cower away from the dark wizard in fear, and with a swish of his cloak he Disapparated.

Unbeknownst to him, Narcissa had followed him into Diagon Alley and from a distance she had witnessed his display of angry frustration with great interest.

Severus Apparated into the shadows covering the footpath opposite Phoebe's house, there was nobody on the street so he moved swiftly across the road and approached Phoebe's door. The door opened before he had a chance to knock. Evidently Phoebe must have returned to the taxi and gone home immediately.

"I heard you arrive," Phoebe said, in a voice that betrayed her fury. She walked into the sitting room, leaving the door open for him, and sat on the couch, crossing her arms and legs.

Severus walked in tentatively and shut the door behind him. He faced her in the sitting room.

"I know you are angry, but I had no choice," he said, calmly.

"You had no choice?" she asked, incredulously. "I don't even know what happened," she said with a huff, "although I suspect I was just insulted by that… that… piece of work you were with. And I believe I was also _snubbed_ by you. Are you embarrassed by me? Because that is how it seemed," she said angrily.

"It was… exactly as you described," he answered, quietly and regretful, "but _no_, I am not embarrassed by you. Believe me, Narcissa is not someone you would care to know."

"Oh, so you did me a favour!" Phoebe snapped, sarcastically.

"Phoebe, there is more to this. I cannot explain it to you, but know that none of this is your fault," Severus said, feeling guilty. Then speaking softly, staring at the curtain, he added, "It cannot go on."

Phoebe stood up, "What do you mean, it cannot go on?" she asked, her voice shaking a little.

Severus stood there for a few moments, in which time he thought how perceptive she must have been to catch on so quickly, then he took a deep breath, "I cannot be involved with you." He felt miserable just saying the words, he wished he hadn't needed to, then to be sure he did not back out, he continued, "We cannot be together."

She was silent for several seconds before she responded, "What happened? What has changed?" She was breathing deeply, looking at him, a crease on her forehead, trying to understand. He knew why, the last time he had been here he had told her she was _perfect_.

"Nothing has changed-"

"Severus, you aren't making any sense," she interrupted, bewildered.

"Stop!" he insisted bluntly, "just stop." This wasn't going well, but had he really expected it to? "This is all my fault, I should never have allowed this. I cannot have a relationship with you, there are things - events - in my life which prevent your inclusion."

"But-" Phoebe began. He could see the hurt on her face and it dawned on him that perhaps she was more attached to him than he had realised.

"It is dangerous, listen," he insisted, desperate for her to understand, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her a little, "I am too involved and you… you will never be accepted by them - they will hurt you."

A dawning crept over her face, "You are involved with wizards who use _Dark_ magic? Those that use magic as weapons?" she asked, backing away from his grasp. A shocked look replaced the dawning, "Are you…? You are _one_ of them, aren't you?" she accused. "Aren't you!?" she demanded, when he did not answer immediately.

"No-!" he started, "well… yes, I am involved… but it is not that simple!" Then suddenly, knowing it was the only way she could see that he had no choice, he proclaimed recklessly, "Phoebe - I am a _spy_!"

There, he had said it, she would understand now, she would know there was no room for her.

The woman had gone pale at his words, her breathing shallow, she reached for Severus and put a hand on his arm. She looked into his eyes for several seconds, "Are you in danger, because of me?" she whispered softly, but urgently.

'She finally understood,' he thought, sighing with the unexpected relief that came from the unloading of a burden, he closed his eyes momentarily. "I cannot be sympathetic to their cause, if I am sympathetic to you - you will never be accepted," he said, shaking his head.

"You didn't answer my question," she implored. "Are you in danger?"

Severus returned his gaze to hers. "I know what I am doing, I can look after myself," he said assuredly, "but I cannot do what I need to if I am involved with you," he admitted to her, "We shall both be in danger if we continue, they will discover us and… I will _not_ be able to protect you," he said, then finally wrenching his eyes from her once more, guilt and regret tearing at him.

"That's what nearly happened today, isn't it?' Phoebe asked, "That woman, she's involved?"

Severus nodded, "It is vital that my position is not compromised. I thought I could keep _us_ separate… it was foolish--no_--I _was foolish. I will not come again."

She leaned her forehead onto his chest and breathed a sigh. "Oh Severus, what on earth have you got yourself involved in?"

'What indeed?' he thought, mournfully. He looked down at the top of her head then wrapped his arms around her knowing he was offering no more than a temporary comfort.

She pushed him away rather roughly, "Fine then, you should go," she said quietly, but he noticed a lone tear roll down her cheek.

"Go then," she said, brushing it away fiercely. "Go… you cannot stay here. GO!" Phoebe pushing him unceremoniously toward the door.

With one last look at her, he turned and left the house. He hesitated outside the door for a moment, then resolved himself and Disapparated away with another swish of his cloak and a small _pop_.


	5. Chapter 5  Parting Gift

Aww, wasn't he sweet to leave her something... As usual - just mucking about with JK Rowling's creations - they all belong to her, not me.

**Chapter 5**_ - Parting Gift_

Phoebe waited until she heard the faint pop before she allowed herself to give in to her tears. She sank onto her knees on the floor and leaned against the couch crying… grieving. He was gone, for good this time and she had only just found him.

Phoebe remained on the floor for almost half an hour before she felt able to move. She had cried for fifteen minutes straight, and then, when she had emptied herself of all her tears and emotion, she hadn't had the strength to get up, so she had stayed there thinking. Thinking of the short time she had had with him, of how things would be now he was gone. Of the circumstances preventing them being together. She knew he had been right in ending the relationship, she could see in his eyes that the conditions were serious, even deadly, and there was nothing she could do to help him. Just merely his involvement with her had complicated his plight, compromised his defences. She would need to move on - without him - it was the only thing she could do for him.

The next morning Phoebe woke late and barely made it to work on time, even though she was still using the taxi service to commute. Monica had noticed her mood minutes after arriving.

"Phoebe, are you okay?" she asked with concern, standing next to her at the reception desk, "You seem a bit upset."

"I'm fine," she replied, with little enthusiasm.

Monica put her arms around Phoebe's shoulders and pulled Phoebe sideways against her. Phoebe remembered Monica had been very good at guessing, about the man who had saved her in the alley two weeks ago, but now she realised Monica must just be very perceptive or sensitive to know how Phoebe was really feeling. Then Phoebe suddenly remembered Severus once saying she had showed many of her feelings plainly on her face. Perhaps it was true.

"It's okay," came Monica's crooning voice, "you don't have to tell me now." Monica then turned her head over her shoulder and called, "Sandra, Phoebe isn't feeling well, can you take over the front desk for a while. I'm just going to take her out the back."

As the other woman acknowledged Monica, she led Phoebe out the back door of the office, into the lunch room, and sat her down. She pulled up a chair directly in front of Phoebe and sat with her hand on Phoebe's arm, comforting.

"Please don't tell me he was married," she said, half joking.

Phoebe almost snorted, then she half laughed, half cried. "No… he wasn't. How did you know it was about him?" she asked, looking at her own hands laying in her lap.

"How could it be anything else," Monica answered, smiling at Phoebe, still patting her on the arm. "You don't have to tell me what happened if you don't want to, but did he hurt you? Are you really okay?"

"It's nothing like that," Phoebe assured, "I'm fine. I just really liked him, that's all." Phoebe wiped the tear that had escaped her eye off her cheek.

"But it's over?" Monica asked.

"Yes," Phoebe answered, "but it's not his fault, it's just one of those things," she said, trying for some unknown reason to convince Monica. Phoebe sniffed, and Monica handed her a tissue from the table.

"You'll be fine," Monica said. "Things will get easier," she promised.

"Thanks," she said, "I'm okay, I'll be alright."

"Yeah, that's what I said," Monica said, with a giggle.

Phoebe smiled, they sat there for another couple of minutes, while Phoebe dried her eyes, then they both returned to work. Phoebe appreciated the unassuming comfort that Monica had offered and felt she could indeed call her a friend from now on. Perhaps she would go out for that after work drink Monica had been nagging about since the younger woman had started at the accountancy firm.

Three weeks had passed since Phoebe had last seen Severus, and she had in fact ventured out for those drinks with Monica, surprising herself by actually having a good time. She had tried not to think of Severus, but occasionally he crept into her thoughts. 'Where is he now?' 'Is he okay?' Phoebe got angry with herself when she caught herself wondering about him, it was pointless, she would never find out. She had to forget about him, so she suggested to her new friends, Monica and the woman's other friends, a jaunt to the nightclub after work on Monday. They were easily lead astray and it had ended up being a late night.

On Tuesday morning she had woken up late, regretting her lack of responsibility the previous night. She was feeling a little seedy when she went to have her shower, she didn't realise she had _that_ much to drink. By ten o'clock she started to feel better, though resolved not to go out late again on a week night. Phoebe knew she was behaving this way to distract herself from Severus, but there was no sense in turning herself into a drunk in the process.

A few days later Phoebe complained to Monica about the flu she had contracted. "Ugh, I feel awful. I must have got it from someone when we went out on Monday night," she said, "I've been feeling sick ever since."

"Well don't come near me," Monica joked, "I don't want it." She looked sympathetically at Phoebe, "You should have stayed home today."

"Yeah I would have, but I felt a bit better yesterday afternoon, I thought I would be better today," Phoebe explained.

As both women were clearing their desks to go home that afternoon, Monica informed Phoebe of her intention to meet their other friends at the pub for a drink.

"Oh, I'll come too, just let me get some money out of the bank on the way," Phoebe said, as she picked up her handbag.

"Oh… but I thought you were feeling sick?" she queried.

"Yeah, I was this morning, but I'm actually feeling a lot better now," Phoebe answered.

Monica eyed her a little suspiciously, "Didn't you say you were feeling better yesterday afternoon too?" she asked.

"Yeah I was, why?"

A slight crease formed on Monica's forehead, "Phoebe, I'm not sure, but… do you think that maybe you don't have the flu?" Monica asked, suggestively.

"What do you mean? I haven't been faking it, if that's what you suggesting." Phoebe answered, a little indignantly.

"No, that's not what I mean," Monica continued, "I mean… I don't think it's the flu. You've been sick in the mornings. Do you think you could be… you know… pregnant?' she asked, hesitantly.

Phoebe chuckled, "What? No… you have to have had sex to get…" she trailed off, the smile sliding from her face momentarily, then she recovered slightly. "No, definitely not!"

But Phoebe had just remembered the night she had spent with Severus. She had put it out of her mind completely. Firstly, because they had mutually decided it had been too soon and had wanted the relationship to develop further before complicating it with sex. And secondly, the relationship had come to an end so abruptly that she was deliberately trying _not_ to think of the man in order to cope better. But now it was clear in her mind that they had not used any form of birth control that night, a little over a month ago. It had not even occurred to her at the time, nor afterwards. _Why_? - she did not know.

Monica was watching her strangely.

"Actually, I just remembered, there is something else I have to do this afternoon," Phoebe hurriedly muttered. It was not true, but she suddenly felt there was something else that she _needed_ to do - privately.

Phoebe hastily turned and made her way down the street and around the corner, out of Monica's concerned scrutiny, after a rushed, "I'll see you later, alright."

She headed for the nearest chemist and hunted the shelves until she found a pregnancy test and purchased it, feeling that all eyes were on her. She caught a taxi home and the minute she walked through her front door she threw her bag down on the couch and took the package she had purchased to the bathroom. She performed the test as per the instructions and then she sat on the edge of the bath and waited for the time to expire to read the results.

As the time ticked slowly over, she tried to think about what stage in her cycle she was supposed to be. With a shock she realised she was late. 'Why haven't I noticed, before now, that I am late?' she wondered. She felt her breasts and her stomach did a back flip as she realised they did seem a little fuller and were a little tender. She thought about the nausea she had experienced, and remembered she had actually thrown up in the toilet this morning. Even before the test was ready, she could guess what the results would be, she knew the signs well. Her watch alarm signalled the end of the waiting time and she snatched the test stick off the corner of the sink and looked at it. An unmistakable plus sign was easily visible. She was _pregnant_!

Phoebe was in shock… what was she going to do now? She put her hand across her lower abdomen, there was a baby in there, _she _was going to have a baby. And then a stunned realisation hit her - she was going to have _Severus'_ baby.

Phoebe left the test stick laying on the sink, went to the sitting room and climbed onto the couch where she cuddled a cushion to her chest. What was she going to do? Severus did not know. She would have to tell him, but… how? She did not know how to find him… except… someone may know him at the Leaky Cauldron, or Diagon Alley, she supposed. Then her heart dropped with a heavy thunk , she remembered why he had left in the first place. Things would not have changed with his situation. But… things had changed with Phoebe now - she was going to have his baby! But she could not just go waltzing around the Leaky Cauldron asking for Severus Snape, it would be obvious that she was a Muggle and she had been told that he could not admit to knowing her.

But he had to be told.

'Hogwarts!' she suddenly thought. She could find out where the school was and she would be able to go there. She had to try, at least…

Saturday morning Phoebe dressed early and took a taxi to the street in which the Leaky Cauldron pub entry was located. She wore a jacket with a hood so as to disguise herself if need be. She stood across the street, adjacent to the door so she may observe anyone entering or exiting from the pub. She felt sick standing there, but did not waver in her determination. She fiddled with the unusual coins in her pocket. Phoebe had remembered at the last minute to retrieve them from her dressing table draw, where she had put them after Severus had given them to her. She thought it might be wise to have something to bargain with in order to get the information she required.

Phoebe had stood there for nearly an hour before she saw any sign of anybody who could have been a wizard or witch approach the Leaky Cauldron door, but by the time she had realised, they had entered and were out of sight. She did not feel that she should go in on her own, so had decided her only chance would be if someone came _out_ of the door. Another twenty minutes went by and still no one, but eventually a man did step out of the door. He just stood at the entrance looking around, with a gleeful smile on his face. A moment later, a plump woman with an irritated expression opened the door.

"There you are, Arthur. I've been looking for you for ten minutes," she chastised. "I should have known to look for you out here. Anything to do with Muggles!" she said with exasperation.

"Oh yes, sorry dear," he answered, a little bashful, "I'll be inside in a moment." The woman rolled her eyes and shut the door.

Had Phoebe heard right? 'Would this man be accepting of Muggles? Will he help me?' She stepped quickly onto the street and crossed to the other side, toward the man.

"Excuse me," Phoebe said loudly. The man looked up at her.

"Yes my dear," he answered with a broad grin, "What can I do for you?"

"I need your help…"

"My help?" he queried, still smiling, "What is it that you need help with?"

Phoebe took a deep breath, "I need to find… Hogwarts," she said, bravely.

A perplexed look spread across his face, "Hogwarts? You? You need to find Hogwarts?" The man looked up and down the street, then fixing his confused gaze back on Phoebe's face, he said, "Are you one of us, then?" sounding a little disappointed.

"Oh… no…no, actually I'm not… but-" stammered Phoebe.

"You _are_ a Muggle then?" the man said, cheering up, "but, how is it you know-"

"I'm looking for someone there, someone specific," Phoebe answered.

"Oh, I see. Who? Who are you looking for, then?" asked the man.

"I… can't say, I just need to find them… I need to know how to get there," she said, pleadingly.

The man, nervously shuffling, looked at her inquiringly, "You can't say who you are looking for… if you just tell me a name, perhaps I can-"

"Please!" Phoebe begged, she felt tears burning in her eyes, she was getting desperate. She quickly pulled the coins from her pocket and shoved them toward the man. "You can have these, if you could just tell me how to get there… please."

Just then the plump woman re-opened the door to the pub and stepped onto the street.

"Arthur… what taking you so…" she began, stopping immediately when she saw Phoebe standing in front of the man, with her hands filled with the coins held out to him. "Arthur, what's going on?" she asked, suspiciously.

"Molly dear, the young lady was… just asking how to get to Hogwarts," he said slowly, still with the perplexed look on his face. "No dear," he said to Phoebe, pushing her hands back from him, "I do not need to take your money."

The look of suspicion on the plump woman's face was replaced by a kind, concerned one, that made her look motherly. "Certainly not, dear," she agreed. "Are you, okay?" she asked, noticing Phoebe's distress.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just need to know how to get there… please!" Phoebe repeated.

The man and woman looked at each other briefly, then the man turned back to Phoebe, "I can help you get there, I'll put you on the Knight Bus," he said kindly. "Use your money for the fare," he suggested. "The Knight Bus will take you directly to the gates."

"I can catch a bus there?" Phoebe asked, relieved that she was finally getting somewhere. "Where can I get on this bus?"

"I'll hail it for you," said the man, withdrawing his wand from his robes. "But… I'm going to have to let the Headmaster know you are arriving. This is a bit… unusual," he added.

"Is he a… good man?" Phoebe asked, awkwardly, but she needed to find out somehow what kind of wizard this _Headmaster_ was.

Confidently, the woman answered, as though she understood Phoebe's implied meaning, "The very _best_ of men, dear. You will be safe with him," she assured, with a nod.

Phoebe nodded back, she seemed to gather courage from the older woman's assurances. "Okay, thank you. I appreciate your help," she said, with a small smile.

"Anytime dear, good luck," she said, squeezing her gently on the arm.

The man moved to the curb and flicked out his wand, instantly a huge triple decker bus screeched to a halt in front of them. Phoebe jumped back in surprise, nearly tripping and was steadied by the man. She looked cautiously at the bus, she was trembling, this was the kind of thing Phoebe had anticipated doing with Severus by her side. Not alone, desperate and terrified. The man must have seen the terror on her face, as he took her by the hand and led her toward the bus doors.

"Don't worry, you'll be perfectly safe," he assured her, quietly. "Take her to Hogwarts, please," he requested and he helped her pay the conductor, pressing her change back into her trembling hands.

She climbed into the bus and was ushered into a seat. One last look out the window at the man and woman who had helped her and after a tiny wave, she was flung back hard against the seat, as the bus plunged into rapid motion. It was unlike any bus ride she had ever had, winding, turning and passing so fast that objects were blurs outside her window. It was exceptionally rough too, she was exhausted from having to hold on so tight, so as not to be thrown about. An hour and a half later, after several stops where other passengers boarded or departed, she heard the conductor call to her that Hogwarts was the next stop. As the bus jarred again to a sudden stop, she almost slipped from her seat, but stuck out her foot and jammed it against the seat in front of her to halt her movement. She stood up and made her way to the bus doors and stepped gratefully onto solid ground, somewhat nauseous.

As the bus pulled away quickly and vanished, Phoebe looked up at the huge castle ahead of her, through the large, open iron gates. She was awe struck, it was simply massive and extremely glorious. The castle seemed a little daunting to her, the walls and towers seemed to overshadow even the mountains in the background.

Phoebe wondered whether the message had been sent to the Headmaster of the school, warning of her imminent arrival. What would she say to the man? Would she be welcomed, or even allowed entry? Looking around for an alternative, she realised with a sinking feeling that she had no idea of her location or which direction would take her to the nearest town, and as the bus had already disappeared, she recognised she had no choice but to enter the castle.


	6. Chapter 6  A New Priority

Yay - finally some reviews - thanks to all who have taken the time, I appreciate it! Just to answer some queries - I assumed that a Muggle _can_ see Hogwarts and the Leaky Cauldron/Diagon Alley etc after being shown by a wizard - Severus took Phoebe to Leaky etc, and Arthur put her on the Knight Bus which took her directly to Hogwarts, so as far as I'm concerned this is the same as showing someone. And Dumbledore did prepare for Phoebe's arrival - did you notice the gates were _open_? - but in the beginning of HBP Snape had to collect Harry from the locked gates when he was late off the train and had to open them with magic. Anyway - on with the tale...

**Chapter 6**_ - A New Priority_

As she remembered why she had come, Phoebe's stomach began to churn, waves of nausea washing over her, so she breathed deeply until they abated. She walked slowly up to the gates, through them and continued up the road until she reached the large oak doors which appeared to be the main entrance. Phoebe approached the doors and reached her hand out and knocked three times with the heavy brass knocker. The doors opened immediately, so smoothly it appeared to be by a mechanism, although she could see none. Phoebe stepped into the entrance hall and was surprised to be greeted by a severe looking older woman with square glasses, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, standing on the first flight of stairs ahead of her. She was wearing emerald robes, and was most definitely a witch, even to Phoebe's untrained eye.

"Hello," said the older woman, "we've been expecting you," she continued. "My name is Professor McGonagall, though I'm afraid we were not informed of yours," she said kindly, but in a prim and proper manner, her Scottish accent prominent.

"Phoebe," she answered, timidly.

"It is nice to meet you, Phoebe. Now, how may I help you? We were informed that you were searching for someone in particular, is that true?"

"Yes… I need to speak with Mr Snape please," Phoebe requested, nervously.

"Professor Snape?" the older woman asked, surprised. "Are you quite sure, dear?"

"Yes… I'm sure," she responded, with a small nod.

"Very well then… I will inform him you are here. Would you wait just there please, I won't be long." The woman walked down the flight of stairs and veered to her right down another set of stone steps and disappeared into a dark corridor Phoebe had not even noticed was there.

Phoebe waited for a number of minutes before she once again began to feel ill. She sat down at the foot of the stairs that the older woman had just descended and placed her head in her hands, breathing deeply again. She felt cold, but strangely was sweating and she had begun to shiver, feeling suddenly as though she were about to throw up. Dismayed, Phoebe realised she was about to see Severus again for the first time in weeks and she was going to greet him by vomiting on his shoe again.

'Oh, _terrific_!' she thought sarcastically, furiously trying to will the sensation away.

"Phoebe!?" she heard his familiar deep voice utter, then she felt Severus pull her hands away from her face. As he saw how pale she looked, he put the back of his own hand against her forehead to feel her temperature. "What is wrong? What has happened?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," she said, quietly… then frantically she shoved him away from her and threw up suddenly, all over the floor. Thankfully this time, she noted with relief, it had not been anywhere near his shoes - or any other part of him.

She felt the man move up onto the stairs behind her and crouch, supporting her shoulders in his firm grasp. He remained there until she had ceased being sick.

"I see that you are indeed… _fine_," he remarked sarcastically in her ear. "Minerva, please fetch Poppy, I believe Phoebe requires a medi-witch," he requested of the older woman, who Phoebe just realised had witnessed the entire incident.

"No, I'll be okay," Phoebe implored, though the dark man looked unconvinced. "Please… Severus I just need to talk to you… _please!_' she begged, quietly.

With a wave of his wand, Severus cleared the mess from the floor in front of Phoebe. "I really think you ought to see the medi-witch," he pressed, his tone brusque.

"No!" Phoebe insisted. "Honest… Severus, I will be fine. I just need to speak with you, _now_!" She knew that once he had been told of the baby, he would realise she didn't need any help from this _medi-witch_ or nurse - or whoever this _Poppy_ was.

Severus scrutinised her a moment with a small frown and narrowed eyes, then he nodded, "Come into my quarters, then we will talk," he said concisely. He then turned to Professor McGonagall, "I will see that she is looked after, Minerva." The older woman nodded at him and began to climb the stairs.

Phoebe gratefully felt his arms lift her to her feet and support her as she was led into the dark corridor down the stone steps. She felt unusually weak and remembered she had not eaten at all this morning. At least, as she had just vomited, she no longer felt nauseous. She barely took note of the directions to his quarters and had only realised they had arrived when she had heard him utter a spell at the door. He guided her through, and sat her down on the single armchair in the middle of the room, and helped her remove her coat.

"You are not well," he insisted, feeling her forehead once more. "You look pale and you feel clammy. You should allow me to fetch the medi-witch."

"Severus… I promise I will be okay. I think it may be because I haven't eaten yet today, and I am thirsty," she said, trying to alleviate his unnecessary concern.

Immediately the man summoned the strangest creature Phoebe had ever seen and ordered a meal be delivered at once. The creature (resembling some kind of cross between a living garden gnome and a hairless dog) disappeared as instantly as it had appeared and within seconds a full, hot, roast dinner materialised out of nothing onto the coffee table. Severus had fetched a goblet from the mantle and placed it beside the plate of food.

"Aguamenti," he spoke, aiming his wand at it and the goblet filled with water. "Here," he said, as he handed her the goblet, "Rinse your mouth and expel it into here," he held out an empty bowl for her. She did as he asked. "Now drink," he ordered.

"Thankyou," Phoebe said gratefully, and she took several small refreshing sips.

"Eat now," he commanded, pushing the plate on the coffee table to directly in front of her. Setting the goblet down, Phoebe picked it up, placed it on her lap and ate a few bites of the dinner. She was already starting to feel a little stronger. She felt she should explain before the man questioned her about why she had vomited in the entrance hall.

"Severus… I did not come here lightly today," she began seriously, "I have something I need to tell you."

"Eat first," he urged, as he sat on the small coffee table in front of her. "Whatever it is, it will wait."

Resigned to the fact that he would not let her talk until he felt she was fully fed and re-hydrated, she finished the meal and drank the remainder of the water.

Severus took the plate and goblet from her hands as she passed them to him, he placed them on the table and the plate immediately vanished.

Suddenly reminded of the creature, Phoebe asked, "What on earth was that… creature that you asked for the food?"

"A house-elf. Magical creatures who devote their lives to serving," he explained briefly.

Severus stood up and walked over to the mantle, turning to her with a serious look on his face.

"Why have you come here, Phoebe?" he asked, his tone grave, causing Phoebe to feel like a rebellious child. "What has happened to make you seek me out?"

Phoebe felt as though he was accusing her of jeopardising his position for some frivolous reason. She blushed, but then quickly began to bubble with anger. How dare he treat her like this, after all she would not be in this position at all if he had thought far enough ahead before allowing her to become involved with him. This was _not_ her fault - even he had said as much!

"I have not come here lightly as I said earlier, I thought you needed to know, I felt it was the right thing," she spat angrily, standing up. "Do not worry, I will not put you in danger again!" looking as though she were about to just leave without another word.

"It is not only me who is in jeopardy, Phoebe!" he threw at her, firing up at her response, "I thought you understood that!" He swiftly moved to grasp her arm, preventing her from leaving.

"I do understand that, but there is nothing I can do, I can't change it," she answered, frustrated and defensive. "I won't change it," she added ambiguously.

"You won't change what? Why have you come here?" he demanded fiercely, his anger and frustration blazing in his eyes.

Phoebe gasped at his tone, she had not seen him like this before, he frightened her. No, that was not true, she remembered the very first time she had laid eyes on him, in the alley, he had been so angry it had just radiated from him. She snatched her arm from his grasp and backed away a few paces. Perhaps he was not the man she had thought he was. Tears burned in her own eyes, she knew she would have to tell him why she had come though, there was no backing out now, there was no doubt he would continue to demand until he forced it from her.

"Phoebe!" he shouted, jolting her from her thoughts.

She looked into his eyes, her breathing shallow… she would have to tell him. The tears that had been welling fell and rolled down her cheek.

The dark man's expression changed from anger, to concern and then… to shame.

"Phoebe… I know I have no right to shout at you," he said huffing a sigh, and he walked toward her, but Phoebe backed away. She did not want comfort from the man.

"No… don't, I didn't come here for this," she insisted.

The man stopped. "Why then?" he asked quite calmly, "Why did you come? Tell me… now."

"Severus… I'm pregnant!"

The man looked shocked, "What!" he exclaimed, instinctively taking a step backwards.

Phoebe didn't answer, she knew he was just thinking aloud, he had heard her, he had understood. Severus turned away from the woman and ran a hand through his hair, then he turned back to her. "You are sure?" he questioned her, a frown of confusion still fixed on his face.

"Yes Severus, I am sure," Phoebe answered, watching him carefully for his reactions, trying to tell how he felt about the news she was giving him.

"I don't know... what to say," he murmured, leaning his hands on the back of the armchair Phoebe had just vacated, staring at the floor, his expression inscrutable.

"You don't need to say anything," Phoebe responded, "I just thought you should know. Please don't think I came here with this news because I wanted anything from you... I just thought you had a _right_ to know. You are this baby's father… but I know you are in a complicated situation, I don't have any expectations. I need you to understand that if you want to be involved, if you can, that… well, I want that for you… that's all."

Severus had listened to all she had to say, without interrupting. He was silent for several moments, his mind must have been furiously working through all this new information.

"You obviously intend to keep it, then?" he asked suddenly, not looking at her.

Phoebe was a little shocked at his insinuation, but quickly realised he was only exploring options in his mind. She would not hold that against him.

"Yes… I can't do _that_, please don't ask me to - I won't!" she responded ardently, shaking her head to leave no doubt of her intent. "You have no obligation Severus, if you choose." He was silent again for several more moments.

The man swallowed and finally said, "Phoebe… did you think for one minute that I would have let you go, if I did not think it was best for both of us at the time. I did not want to… I felt it was the only way to keep you from harm. I had come to realise that I could not protect you if our relationship was not my priority. I have a job to do, it _had_ to come first." At this the man looked up into her eyes, "This… this has changed things… you are pregnant, I need to protect you both now - _you_ have to come first now!"

"But you still have _that_ job, don't you?" Phoebe asked, sceptical, "I don't want you to be at risk because of me."

"Do not worry," he said, moving toward her, taking her in his arms. "I will work that out." He kissed her lightly on her head as he held her.

A warm sense of relief flowed through Phoebe at the feel of his embrace. "I know we didn't mean for this to happen, but.. it has, so now I need to know how you feel," she appealed.

The man pulled away from her slightly so as to look her in her eyes.

"Phoebe, I won't lie to you, it is… unfortunate that this has occurred now. I am in no position to be fathering a child, nor devoting myself to you."

At his words, Phoebe's heart saddened. Severus was merely being noble, honouring his obligations, probably unwillingly.

The man continued, "You will find out, the Wizarding world is at _war_, there are those who are relying on me in order to help them win. My life is unpredictable, my survival is… uncertain. I do not know how much I can offer you, but I can honestly say I will not shy from my duty to you - I willingly accept the responsibility."

Eased slightly by his words, she allowed herself to receive comfort from his closeness, but she sensed that this journey was not going to be easy, for either of them. The man had just made it clear that he was actively putting himself in harms way, and she understood she would be expected to allow him to continue to do so. "Severus, I'm scared for you," Phoebe admitted.

"I know what I am doing, do not be afraid," he insisted, murmuring his assurances close to her ear, "it will be okay." She felt his hand smooth over her hair.

Phoebe felt safe in his arms. As if his words spoke the truth he was promising her the world; and she felt he could deliver. But deep down, where she did not want to look, she knew she was allowing herself to be drawn into something that could end disastrously for herself and her unborn child.


	7. Chapter 7  Dumbledore

Everything you recognise as JK Rowling's is hers, not mine - just playing... Now, can Dumbledore fix Severus' mistakes?

**Chapter 7**_ - Dumbledore_

Severus had left Phoebe in his quarters, as he had remembered he still had to supervise Potter's detentions in his office down the corridor. He was late. The boy would have been waiting for at least twenty minutes, if he was still there at all. Severus had no intention of letting his private issues allow Potter to escape his punishment for the incident with Draco in the bathroom. After all, the boy had managed to continue to hide the book which contained the Sectumsempra curse (and many other of Severus's creations) from Severus, which had made him livid. He had every intention of setting the detention's task as usual, but then he had decided to go to the Headmaster with the news Phoebe had informed him of this morning. The development in his private life was significant to his ability to fulfil the duties required of him in his crucial role for the Order of the Phoenix. The Headmaster would need to know about Phoebe, as Severus had decided that he would need to rely on the Headmaster to help him keep her safe. Severus could not always be around to watch over her and as events became more explosive, he would need to be able to concentrate without the distraction of whether Phoebe and her unborn child were out of harms way.

"Potter! Going somewhere?" Severus snapped sarcastically at the teenager, as he found him walking away from the office.

"I've been waiting… Sir," Potter said, the title obviously added at the last moment, "I figured you weren't coming."

"You _figured_ incorrectly!" imitated Severus in a deadly voice, "In!" he ordered, indicating to the office door. "In the future you will continue to wait until you have a clear message from me that you may leave. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," acknowledged the boy.

"Now, continue with the task I set for you last week, ensuring you complete six boxes this time and not just three," sneered Severus, vindictively. He had heard that Potter and the Weasley girl were dating and felt a nasty satisfaction in denying them time on the weekends together, intending to keep Potter later and later at every detention. "I will be back shortly. Touch nothing in my absence or feel the sting of regret," Severus warned the boy maliciously.

Severus noticed the look of curiosity on Potter's face as he turned and left the room. He made a small noise of disgust. The boy was so arrogant, assuming he was the only one aware of the true meaning of the events that had been unfolding over the past several months. The Headmaster, for one reason or another, had chosen not to inform the boy of the full situation, so therefore Potter had had the audacity to suspect and undermine Severus' loyalty. With disdain, he thought Potter was probably following him now, suspicious of Severus' lateness and the activity which prevented the supervision of his detention. 'Well, Potter will be sorely disappointed,' he thought, as on this occasion he was heading directly to the Headmaster's office. There would be no reason to mistrust his motives this time.

However, on reflection, Severus realised he had never given Potter a reason to trust in him, and this suited Severus. In fact he had encouraged every reason for the boy to _hate_ him. What would it _be_ to have James Potter's son as an admirer? Bitterness burned as Severus acknowledged it would just heighten the guilt he felt in his heart, causing the smothering cloud of darkness to press even closer.

He shook off the last thoughts dismissively, he could not dwell on the emotions he would need to keep concealed in the presence of the Dark Lord, the situation was complicated and difficult enough. Time was running out, the clock was ticking and urgently he remembered the complication sitting in his living quarters at this present time. Increasing his pace, he made his way to the gargoyle guarding the entry to the Headmaster's office. He spoke the password and stepped lightly onto the spiralling stairs that travelled upwards to another heavy wooden door. Knocking on the door, he heard the Headmaster summon his entry.

"Ah, Severus, to what do I owe the pleasure?" the older man asked, inviting Severus into the expansive office filled with many of the man's varied gadgets.

"Headmaster," Severus answered, closing the door and looking to Dumbledore, "I have something I need to discuss."

"Has your guest departed already?" the Headmaster questioned curiously.

"My guest? No," answered Severus, tilting his head in puzzlement at how the Headmaster was aware of Phoebe, then as he remembered the older witch's presence this morning, "Minerva has informed you?"

"Yes indeed, though I was made aware of the lady's intended arrival previously, I was not aware of the purpose for her visit. I take it, as she requested you personally, her business involved you?" suggested the older wizard.

"Yes, Headmaster," Severus responded.

"And is it that business you wish to discuss?" Dumbledore questioned sensitively.

"Yes, it is," he answered again. The Headmaster seemed to be making this easy for Severus and he briefly wondered why. He began his explanation, "The lady, Phoebe Hansen, is a Muggle whom I met several weeks ago in London," he disclosed. "I had begun to develop a relationship with her…" At this Severus noticed the annoying smirk on the Headmaster's face, and bitterly wished he would stop, feeling the heat develop in his face. "I soon realised that I could not continue the… association. There is too much at stake, I could not manage to keep the relationship with her separate from the events which you know are about to take place-"

At this point the Headmaster interjected, "This was the situation which had you troubled when I entered your chambers a number of weeks back?" he asked.

"Yes," Severus admitted, he had always known the Headmaster was very perceptive and enormously intelligent.

"You are now ready to confide in me, then?" Dumbledore asked expectantly.

"Yes, I am," Severus answered calmly, and he continued explaining, "I did in fact end the relationship. Phoebe accepted this, she seemed to understand, though I was full of regret for involving her in the first instance - I should have foreseen the difficulties." Severus swallowed, his guilt apparent.

"Do not appoint blame Severus, not everything can be within our control nor indeed foreseen," the older man stated kindly, though Severus was not exactly sure that he was referring to Severus' failure to see the problems Phoebe alone would create.

"Phoebe has sought me out today…" Severus took a breath, "as she has discovered she is… pregnant… with my child," Severus announced.

The dark man looked to Dumbledore for his reaction, and instead of concern was surprised to find a broad grin on the old man's face.

"Wonderful, how delightful!" congratulated the Headmaster. Severus remained perplexed. The older man noticed the expression on the younger man's face and continued a little more seriously, "Severus, life should go on, you are allowed to be fulfilled."

"I am obligated to the Order, there is little room for fulfilment," he said soberly, "but… I am also now obligated to Phoebe. I have come to you with this news as I require your assistance in making sure they are both protected when I cannot be there," he requested.

Dumbledore looked at Severus appraisingly, "Severus, the time is coming when that will be required, and yes of course I will assist you, but you must understand that your life is more than your _value _to the Order, more than your usefulness to me. You have re-paid your debt… you continue to re-pay your debt. You deserve a life, you deserve a future - you deserve this woman."

Severus was now staring out the window, hearing but not truly accepting the advice the old man was offering.

The Headmaster continued, "You should have confided in me earlier Severus, I would have helped you to make it work," Dumbledore admonished. "Love is most important, it should be your priority, it will not be denied. But, as you see, _love_ has indeed found a way to exist in your life, despite the fact that you pushed it away. You see, this pregnancy is in fact _great_ news Severus, do not see it as the unfortunate obstacle you so obviously do. This baby will give you hope, you will see - it will save your life in the end." Severus then felt the old man lay his hand on his shoulder and he turned to face him. As Dumbledore fixed his gaze on Severus, he continued, "The only thing unfortunate in this, is that both you and Ms Hansen did not have the time to know each other, _really_ discover one another, to be sure in your own hearts that the union was meant to be. Due to the upheaval amongst which we find ourselves, I believe _fate_ has intervened."

"_Fate_ had produced a child?" Severus thought frowning, "Produced… his child?" He knew Dumbledore was wise, but this was a bit far-fetched. He flicked his eyes away from the old man's intense stare, blinking his confusion. There were still problems, obstacles he would need to negotiate - mostly as a result of the child. The words the Headmaster had just used seemed beyond him, a concept he could not grasp and he still needed to work out the protection for Phoebe.

"Do you have any suggestions for Phoebe's protection?" Severus pressed the older man.

Dumbledore's face showed an acceptance of Severus, as if he understood that the younger man had not fully grasped the meaning of his speech, though he knew Severus had needed to hear it spoken aloud. "You will understand with time, Severus. But now on to the issue which concerns you most, Ms Hansen will need to be hidden."

At Severus' look of final satisfaction, the Headmaster added, "Do not misunderstand me Severus, I agree Ms Hansen is indeed in great danger, as has your situation been complicated - I do recognise the implications of her being a Muggle. But rest assured, this relationship is not unmanageable. Now, does anyone else know of your connection to Ms Hansen?" he asked, earnestly.

"I have not discussed Phoebe with any others, however I do not know whether Phoebe has confided in anyone," Severus answered, "I will question her."

"Yes, that will need to be established," the older man responded. "Has anyone seen you both together?"

"Yes many, we have been to Diagon Alley together, although I failed to assume anyone would read anything into my presence in the company of a Muggle," Severus answered, his heart sinking. Then he added, furious with himself for his thoughtlessness, "I took her there, it was naive and foolish of me."

Dumbledore nodded, simply acknowledging that he had heard and understood.

Dejectedly though ,Severus now realised worse than his error in judgement, had been the encounter with the blond witch. Severus took a deep breath before informing the Headmaster of the incident which had led him to end the relationship with Phoebe.

"Also, Narcissa Malfoy has suspected my involvement on some level with Phoebe. She has no proof, and only witnessed the brief, chance encounter. I managed to avoid almost all interaction between myself and Phoebe, though Narcissa still confronted me. Unfortunately she is aware that Phoebe is a Muggle and I have no doubt Narcissa would recognise her if she were to see her again. I believe I discredited her theory, though I cannot be sure her suspicions have been allayed altogether."

"It seems we have no choice then," said Dumbledore gravely, "we shall have to hide her… perhaps in Hogsmeade. Do you expect Ms Hansen will agree?"

Severus thought back to the day Phoebe had agreed to the terms he had set for their relationship - would she accept this as readily? "I will explain to her," he assured the older wizard, "I will ensure she understands we have no choice."

"Well, if we are going to make decisions involving Ms Hansen's welfare, we should do her the courtesy of allowing her to be a part of those decisions, don't you think? Besides, I wish to congratulate the expectant mother myself," said Dumbledore, smiling once again. "Shall we," he said, gesturing Severus ahead of himself toward the door, "I take it she is in your quarters, Severus."

"Yes Headmaster, she is," he replied, opening the door and leading the way down the stairs and into the corridor, then making their way to the dungeons. As they proceeded down the stone steps that led to the dungeons, Severus said, "Please go ahead of me if you wish Headmaster, I will be with you shortly."

"Ah yes, Harry's detention. Now, not too hard on him, Severus," he chuckled, as he overtook the younger man near his office.

Phoebe had watched Severus leave with some trepidation. He had told her he had some teaching duties to perform and then he was going to go to the Headmaster about the news she had just told him. At first she had tried to convince him to keep it to themselves, they would handle it on their own, but he had insisted that the Headmaster was to be trusted, that he was the only one Severus ever fully trusted. He had said Dumbledore was a wise, extremely intelligent and powerful wizard and without his help they would never succeed. Still, Phoebe was feeling nervous, it was difficult to trust someone you had never met and she felt the more people who knew the more danger Severus would risk.

She was sitting in the armchair, nervously worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. Severus was taking a long time, she was just wondering how much longer he would be when there was a knock at the door. She jumped up quickly, not wanting to answer the door, but unsure of whether she should hide in the next room or not. Severus wouldn't knock on his own door, it had to be someone else. She was just backing up to the bedroom door behind her (she had taken a peek at what was behind the two other doors while Severus was gone) when the door in front of her opened and in the doorway stood a tall, thin man with a very long white beard and hair to match, dressed in exquisite robes. She had no time to hide, and had just backed up as far to the bedroom door as possible, with the door nob jammed into her back.

"Do not be alarmed, Ms Hansen, my name is Professor Albus Dumbledore, I am the Headmaster of the school," he announced kindly, in a reassuring voice. "Severus will be delayed for only a few minutes and I came on to bestow congratulations and best wishes for your pregnancy… it is wonderful news."

"Oh… thank you," Phoebe answered awkwardly, relaxing slightly and moving away from the door handle, but still maintaining her position by the bedroom door.

"Please, do not let me keep you on your feet," Dumbledore urged, gesturing that Phoebe should sit in the armchair, as he closed the door and conjured another comfy looking armchair in which he took his own seat. Phoebe couldn't help but gasp in surprise.

"Thank you," Phoebe said again, not really knowing what else to say, as she hesitantly did what he suggested.

"I sense that you are very nervous, Ms Hansen. Please, you have no reason to fear me," said the man, soothingly.

Phoebe plucked up some courage and faced the man, "I'm sorry, it has been an… eventful day, there have been so many new and, I hate to say it, scary things."

"Oh, I quite understand, but might I say that you seem to be handling it very well," he responded, smiling.

Phoebe smiled at the man and she relaxed, he did seem to be a very nice person.

"I did hear that you were ill earlier, are you alright now, is there anything I can do?" he asked concerned.

"Actually, I'm feeling much better now, it is just morning sickness because of the baby, so please don't worry," Phoebe assured, "I hadn't eaten much, but Severus has provided something to eat and drink, I'm fine now."

"Good, good. Yes… Severus rarely misses any detail, he is a good man and very talented, you are in good hands with him," he said, approvingly. "It is very nice that he has found someone, I worried that he may never have the chance."

Phoebe had smiled at the pride with which the old man had described Severus, it was obvious that he did indeed like him, even care about him. Phoebe wondered if Severus realised this.

"Severus does not complain, but I worry that I may have made things harder for him," Phoebe admitted to the man in front of her, feeling much more at ease.

"You should not think that," said the man kindly, "Severus has not had an easy life and again this journey will be difficult… for both of you, but you must live life for it's possibilities, not hide away in fear of pain. You and this baby may possibly be the best thing that has ever happened to him, although he may not yet realise. Allow him time to discover this, it will be worth the wait - he has much to offer."

A tear threatened to fall from Phoebe's eye and roll down her cheek. Could it be true, could she have that much impact on this man's life. She'd had glimpses of Severus' pain, had sensed the darkness that sometimes seemed to surround him, but she could clearly see his potential - his light - that had nothing to do with the clothes he chose to wear. Phoebe had seen it deep in his eyes, desperate to come out, desperate to give. She would wait for him, she would give him the time he needed.

At that moment Severus opened the door and entered the room. Phoebe looked at him like she never had before, with a new appreciation for the man he really was. She realised he remained a mystery to her, there was still so much to learn about the man who was the father of her unborn child - and she remembered, there was still so much he did not know about her. They both needed time together, to get to know each other properly.

"Ms Hansen, now that Severus has arrived, I would like to discuss what should happen now," began the Headmaster, "Severus and I have concluded that it may be best if you do not return to your house in London, as there is a possibility that you may be discovered there. Severus has informed me that you did in fact have a run in with Narcissa Malfoy already and I would suggest to you that it would be risky to assume she will not recognise you and seek out the truth she suspects."

"She suspects you?" Phoebe asked, turning to Severus concerned. "But nothing happened… why didn't you tell me?"

"I can handle Narcissa… it is you who is vulnerable to her," Severus assured, walking over to the armchair in which she was sitting and crouching down to her level, kneeling on one leg. "Currently she has nothing but suspicion, but if she has you, she has all she needs."

Worried, Phoebe looked toward the Headmaster, then back to Severus, "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

The Headmaster responded, "I will arrange a safe house in Hogsmeade, the village not far from here. You will be provided with everything you need, but you should not leave it's safety."

"What about my things, my job?" Phoebe asked, looking from one man to the other. Severus reached out and took her hand, with his other he turned her face towards his and he drew her eyes to his own.

"Phoebe I will take care of you, all you must do is let me… trust me," he whispered soothingly to her.

She found herself nodding, accepting, his dark eyes imploring her to have faith, "Okay… I will, I do," and she allowed him to lean in, wrap his arms around her and hold her. Over his shoulder she saw Dumbledore's satisfied expression.

"All will be taken care of," the older man said, standing to leave, "Good Day, Ms Hansen, it has been wonderful to meet you." He then vanished his own armchair silently with his wand. "Oh and Severus, I shall relieve Harry of his detention, stay here… spend some time together," he urged, 'I will let you know when arrangements have been made."

"Thank you Headmaster," said Severus, maintaining his embrace with Phoebe and as he heard the door close, Severus pulled away from the embrace slightly, sweeping his eyes over her face, his fingers threading their way through her hair. He tilted his head and tenderly he began to kiss her, gently his lips caressed hers. Then suddenly giving in to his wanting, desiring… needing, his kisses became intense with a passion reserved only for her.


	8. Chapter 8  Secrets

Severus and Phoebe learn a little about eachother, but more than that, they learn that there is much more to discover about one another than they first realised.

Thanks to all who have reviewed so far - your feedback makes me feel appreciated.

**Chapter 8**_ - Secrets_

Phoebe responded to his deep kisses, it had been weeks since she had been held and kissed by Severus. He always did it so well that when he finally pulled away, she was breathing hard, not wanting him to stop. He ran his hands through her hair, pressing his own forehead against hers, nuzzling against her cheek, then kissing her gently at her temple.

"I am… grateful to have you back," he breathed, holding her tightly.

Phoebe's heart filled with emotion at his admission, almost causing her to cry. "I missed you too," she responded, at a whisper.

Letting her go, he glanced at her face, "You are not going to cry, are you?"

She blushed, then smiled at him, "No!" she snorted, lightly shoving him away. He had a sense of humour, she had seen that only once from him before, when he had joked about women and shopping. 'It is nice to see,' she thought, though Phoebe suspected it was a rarity. Most of the other times she had been with him, she had seen him only serious or sombre. A reflection of the circumstances he found himself in, she surmised.

As he moved and sat in front of her on the coffee table, she pondered his circumstances, but realised she didn't know enough about them. "Severus… tell me about the war… tell me about who are you fighting," she requested suddenly, herself now serious. "What's it all about?"

Severus, taken by surprise, looked at her sharply. "It does not concern you… you should not wonder about it!" he said, bluntly.

"Don't do that to me," Phoebe responded, irately, "it does concern me now. I need to know what you are dealing with."

The man went to argue again, but then gave in as he saw Phoebe's determined expression. He closed his eyes a moment and sighed. He then drew a deep breath and began to tell her what she had requested, not meeting her eyes as he spoke.

"The Dark Lord is taking hold, he is extremely powerful and entirely merciless. I have witnessed many terrible things," he said quietly. "You would be horrified at all I have-" the dark man broke off.

As Phoebe watched Severus, it was almost tangible to her that he had switched off emotionally and she could see he was struggling to talk about his experiences with the Dark side. She almost regretted the question, but she still felt she needed to know. She tried to catch his gaze, but his eyes were simply staring through her. A few moments passed and she was about to prompt him to continue, when he finally re-focused on her, "I do not wish discuss this with you, Phoebe. He preys on your kind… I cannot do this."

"He preys on _my _kind?" Phoebe asked alarmed.

"Yes, so I have to keep my thoughts of you separate from him, in my head - especially in his presence."

"You have been in his presence?!"

"It is my job - I am the only one who can," he answered, gravely.

Horrified, Phoebe gasped. Terror welled up within her and she began to shake involuntarily. "He can read your mind, can't he - like you can do to me?" she whispered, on the verge of tears.

"I _can_ prevent his attempts… if I am disciplined," he said, but his hesitation suggested that he was still very much at risk.

"I won't ask any more, Severus," she said, fear unmistakable in her voice, "I don't want to distract you from your concentration," Phoebe continued. "I'm sorry," she said, still shaking.

The man stood up and walked over to the mantle. "I did not want to frighten you. This is not your war to fight, but I have earned my place in the middle of all this," he said, with a small gesture of his hand.

He went silent, leaving Phoebe to wonder what he had meant. She got the impression he was trying to tell her something about himself, but he was not giving enough clues. Perhaps she didn't really want to know. What she did realise, though, was that Severus could not shed light on the situation in which she now found herself, she would have to find out some other way. She would not press him for answers, as every time she did, she risked endangering him.

"I know you have questions about me, Severus," said Phoebe, her instincts prompting her to change the subject.

As he looked to her, Phoebe sensed he had been grateful for the shift in focus. He returned to the coffee table and sat facing her.

"I have many," he admitted, taking her hand in his, "but what gives me the right to ask them?" he said, bitterly.

"I do," Phoebe replied, with a small grin, "What do you want to know?" she offered.

He huffed a sigh, fiddling gently with her fingers. "You never told me about your job," he said, "what do you do?"

With a small laugh, she answered, "You mean _did_, what did I do? It seems I don't any more. It wasn't anything meaningful, believe me. I was just a clerk for an Accountancy Firm, it was just a job."

He nodded, "Hobbies?"

"Well, I like to read," she answered, then shrugged as she struggled to come up with anything further to add.

"What about friends, tell me about your friends,' he asked.

"I did not have many friends, Monica would be my only good friend, I worked with her. She was very good at guessing about you," Phoebe reminisced aloud.

"You discussed me?" Severus asked, seeming concerned.

"Well sort of. I never told her anything about you personally, she just knew you had existed… I mean, she knew that there had been a man, but I told her we ended things."

"She knows nothing of what I am?" he asked urgently.

"No, she has no idea of that," then Phoebe remembered the last time she had seen Monica, the previous afternoon. "I think Monica knows I am pregnant though. She really knew before I did, I was in a kind of denial, I think."

"Then she will be concerned about your absence?" Severus questioned her.

"Yes most likely, why?" Phoebe asked, curious.

"She will need to have her memory modified, I will not risk anyone knowing about you and me - or your pregnancy," Severus asserted, "everyone you regularly dealt with will need to be taken care of."

"But she really knows nothing, Severus, I never told her who you were, not even your name," she appealed, "I'll just let them know I've got a new job or something."

"Phoebe, it might not be enough," he insisted, "You must give me a list of everyone, I will sort it all out."

"You won't harm anyone, will you? They will be okay, won't they?" Phoebe worriedly asked.

"They will not be harmed, only what they perceive as the truth will be altered, they will never know anything is different," he promised.

With a sigh, Phoebe leaned forward and rested her face in her hands, this was becoming complicated. She hated that it was now involving other people. Suddenly she felt exhausted and tears threatened once more. The man sitting in front of her put a soothing hand on her shoulder.

"I cannot take the chance, do you understand?"

Phoebe nodded, her face still hidden in her hands. She failed to stifle a shuddering breath before she bit her lip.

"Phoebe?" Severus said, concerned.

"I'm okay, I'm tired - I was up early, that's all," she assured, briefly looking up. It was not the entire truth, but she didn't want Severus to know of her distress.

"You should rest," he said, "there is a bed in the next room. Give me the list of names, I will sort this out now and give you some time to yourself."

Phoebe nodded, this was out of her hands, Severus was adamant.

The list was not very extensive, as Phoebe had made a point of not interacting with too many people deliberately. She felt grateful for it now, as she was craving the soft bed and the chance to close her eyes. She handed Severus the list of names, occupations and addresses when it was completed, and after pushing it into his pocket he showed Phoebe to the bedroom. After removing her shoes she slipped under the covers. She noticed Severus seemed a little distant now, standing away from the bed, watching her settle herself beneath the covers.

"It would be best if you did not leave my quarters," he suggested. "I will see you when I return." Her eyes followed him as he left the bedroom.

Her tears were finally allowed to fall when she heard Severus leave his quarters through the outer door. A heavy guilt settled in the pit of her stomach as she thought of the difficulties she had caused for everyone - Severus included. She placed her hand over her middle, pleading silently to a higher power that Dumbledore was right, and that this baby would end up being the best thing that could have happened to both her and Severus. Ten minutes later, her exhaustion claimed her and she fell asleep, and her dreams were scattered with the small faces of children whose fate had led her to fight for a man in need of her love.

Phoebe had woken with a start. She soon realised it was the snap of a door being closed in the outer room that had woken her. 'Severus must be back,' she thought, and sat up. She yawned, but acknowledged to herself that she felt much less exhausted than when she had climbed into the bed. She looked around herself, she was in Severus' bed. This caused her to wonder about where she would be sleeping tonight. Hogsmeade the Headmaster had said, a village not far from here. Creasing her forehead, she thought to herself, 'Where is _here_, anyway?'

She climbed out of the bed and made her way barefoot to the door, where she saw Severus sitting in the armchair holding his own head in his hands. He looked drained, vulnerable even. She wanted to comfort him and give him her support. Phoebe walked over to him. "Severus?" she said, as she neared him.

He jumped, startled. "Did I wake you?" he asked, standing up alongside her, no longer looking vulnerable. In fact, he now seemed in total control, strong.

'It was an act,' thought Phoebe, a face he portrayed in public, even with her. She felt saddened that he could not trust her, would not open up to her. Dumbledore had been right, there was much more to this man than he allowed most people to see. She longed to discover him completely.

"It's okay, I think I would have woken soon anyway," she replied.

"I have spoken with the Headmaster again, your accommodation in Hogsmeade has been arranged. I am to take you there now," he explained to her.

"I'll get my stuff, then,' she said, referring to her shoes still in the bedroom, "just a minute."

Phoebe returned to the bedroom to put on her shoes. She was beginning to feel nervous, not really knowing what to expect in Hogsmeade. The man stood at the bedroom doorway watching her.

"Are you staying there with me?" Phoebe asked, silently hoping.

"I will remain with you for a time to help you settle in, but I will not stay overnight," he answered, "I would be missed here… I have teaching duties," he explained.

Phoebe stood upright once her shoes were secure, "Oh, okay. I'm ready," she said, sounding more confident than she felt. She was going to be on her own, wherever she was being taken, and again she wondered where she was exactly anyway? She sighed, feeling quite alone and worried.

The man in front of her seemed so distant at times. And right now Phoebe felt she had no connection with him at all, as if he were a complete stranger. She had not felt lonely for a long time, in fact she had welcomed her solitary lifestyle in recent years. But that life suddenly seemed foreign to her and she now craved someone to share everything with, she craved the connection with Severus. He, on the other hand, seemed to be holding her at arms length, preventing them becoming close. Maybe he was just trying to protect himself, or them both, from being hurt.

She realised Severus was deliberately exposing himself to danger. He had assured her he knew what he was doing, but she was just beginning to comprehend the risk he was taking. She remembered he had said earlier today that his survival was _uncertain_. Fear welled inside her, what if something went wrong? What if he were killed?

Phoebe miserably slipped on her coat after he handed it to her, then Severus led the way to the door. But before he opened it he turned to Phoebe, "I will need to place a charm on you, to disguise your presence. You should not be seen."

Phoebe took several steps away from him in alarm as he lifted his wand toward her. He hesitated, lowering his wand and stepping up to her. "I will not hurt you, ever… do not fear me," he assured, shaking his head.

"No… it's not you… I'm sorry," Phoebe apologised, then tears filled and overflowed her eyes. She couldn't help it, emotion was just flowing from her. She turned away from him desperately trying to halt the tears, brushing them away, but they were coming faster than she could wipe them. 'Why did this have to happen in front of him?' Phoebe thought, distressed. She had wanted him to think she could handle anything… everything!

She felt the man's hands on her shoulders, turning her body to face him and pulling her close. "I am here, Phoebe," he said quietly in her ear, "you do not need to be strong… that is my job." Phoebe sobbed into his chest, then pushed him roughly away.

"I'm so scared!" she cried out, "scared for you… and for me! It would be too hard, I couldn't deal with it if you were killed - I can't handle going through it _again_!" Phoebe couldn't help herself, she hadn't meant to say it aloud, but it had burst from her as a result of her fear.

"_Again_?" Severus queried, a deep frown appearing on his forehead.

Regaining control of herself Phoebe took a breath, she would just pretend she hadn't said anything out of the ordinary, "Do the spell, Severus, I am ready to go."

"No. What did you mean?" asked Severus, suspicious.

"I mean, I am ready for you to take me to Hogsmeade," she said, a little too casually considering she had recently been so emotional.

"Phoebe, you are hiding something from me, I know," Severus declared, giving her a stern look.

"As you are from me," Phoebe snapped her retort, unfairly she knew.

"You do not trust me?" he questioned, ignoring her retort.

"I didn't mean anything, I thought I'd lost you for good three weeks ago, that's all," Phoebe lied, refusing to look at him.

"You were _not_ referring to the time we have been apart," he said, his voice waspishly low, "I need you to tell me the truth, Phoebe," he demanded, softly.

Phoebe turned away from the dark man. 'The_ truth_?' It was not that she did not trust him, but more that she could not trust herself to be able to handle talking about the truth - her past. She was in no state to be dredging this up right now. There was too much else going on, and it was too painful. She would need to make him understand that she would tell him… but in her own time. She turned back to him.

"Okay... Severus, I do have what you might call secrets. But they are not secrets because I do not trust you. It is nothing sinister I promise, just things I try to avoid thinking about. You will know in time, I _will_ tell you… but, please… let me find my own way there."

The man contemplated her momentarily, his anger giving way to concern. Then he agreed with a silent nod of his head. "Come, right now I need to get you to Hogsmeade," he commanded. "The Disillusionment charm will make you camouflaged," he briefly explained and without giving Phoebe another chance to object, he turned his wand on her and muttered the incantation. Phoebe felt the weird sensation of a bucket of thick gloop being poured slowly over her, from head to foot, and was amazed at the chameleon effect it had on her body.

She followed Severus out the door and they both made their way toward the entrance hall, avoiding the few students who milled about the corridors. Actually it seemed to Phoebe that the students were avoiding Severus (as she couldn't be seen). She sensed he mustn't be a very likeable teacher and snickered to herself. She could see how he would seem intimidating to a child or teenager, then she thought solemnly, 'He has even intimidated me at times.'

When they were out in the grounds, walking toward the boundary gates, Phoebe whispered to him, "How far is it?"

"About a fifteen minute walk," he answered quietly back, "the house is on the outskirts, we will not have to enter the village."

They walked on in silence for several minutes.

"Severus, I'm not sure how this will work, how will I get food and buy other things I will need, if I can't leave the house?" Phoebe asked candidly, she had been thinking to herself how impractical the arrangement was going to be.

"I believe the Headmaster has provided you with a house-elf to look after your needs. Do not worry every aspect will be taken care of, the Headmaster is a brilliant man," Severus responded, obviously expecting his comments to alleviate her worry.

"But how long do you think this will go on?" she questioned.

They had turned the first few corners in the winding road to Hogsmeade and the castle grounds were no longer in sight. The man stopped walking and faced Phoebe. Hesitating momentarily, he checked that they were alone, then removed the Disillusionment Charm.

"I do not know how long," he said irately, "Phoebe, we do not have a choice in this, it will be necessary for as long as it is necessary."

Phoebe noticed his irritation caused by her questions, but she stepped up close to him. "Severus, I'm not trying to be difficult," she began, "but… well, it sounds to me like you might be talking months."

"Yes," he answered, "it will most likely be months - it could even be longer."

"But Severus… I'm going to have a baby, we have a time limit. When will you be able to stay with me?" she asked, seriously.

He frowned, "I will not," he said, with a shake of his head.

"What do you mean, you won't? I'm not going to be able to give birth alone, I just can't do it."

He looked a little thrown, it was obvious he hadn't contemplated the fact that there would be a birth and a baby at the end of this pregnancy.

"Severus, I'm going to need you," she pressed.

He backed away from her slightly and continued to walk toward the village, she trotted to catch up and followed slightly behind him.

"I cannot make any promises… but I will visit when I can," he responded, seemingly indifferent.

Phoebe felt a little abandoned by his comment, "I know… but what am _I_ going to do? It's easy enough for you to say you might not be able to make it, but… I'm still going to have to give birth. It's difficult and… well… it hurts, and I'm scared I'm going to have to do it all alone." She stopped walking, looking intently at the back of the dark man's head. He continued on a few paces, but eventually stopped too, though did not turn to face her.

"I will talk to the Headmaster," he said in business like tone, then he half turned to her, "I will see to it that he knows you may need someone with you." He turned away and began to walk down the lane once more.

Phoebe was incredulous, rooted to the spot. "You're acting as though you are detached from all of this. This is _your_ baby too, Severus… _your_ child," she pointed out, upset and frustrated.

The man spun savagely on the spot and strode back to stop in front of Phoebe. "I told you I was in no position to do this,' he spat angrily, his voice now showing his own frustration. "I cannot change this situation, I cannot just tell the Dark Lord, _Oh, hang on, my Muggle girlfriend is going to give birth to my child_." Severus fixed his intense eyes on hers. "If I try to leave - I am _dead_! If he finds out about you - I am _dead_! Don't you see, this is why I ended our association in the first place. You, chucking a little hissy fit will not change anything. I would be there for you if I could… I wish I could change this… but I cannot!'

Phoebe was shocked by his reaction, she took a deep breath and stared at the ground - but she knew he was right. "Professor Dumbledore said this would be hard, I don't think I really understood at the time," Phoebe said, her voice shaking. "I… I'm sorry, I am not making things any easier for you."

His frustration vented a little, the man reached out and smoothed his hand over her hair and she leaned against his body. Severus looked down at the top of her head, then wrapped an arm around her, holding her firmly.

His tone was more gentle when he spoke, "I am doing what I can to protect you… to help you. Beyond that I cannot promise anything." He rested his cheek against her temple and whispered to her, "If the war came to an end, if the Dark Lord were defeated - everything would be different. But until then… if I do not pass information to the Light side, there is a probability the Dark Lord _will_ prevail. If that happens… then we will all be dead!"


	9. Chapter 9  Hogsmeade

All JK Rowling's work is hers to profit from alone - I will die none the richer from this attempt to entertain myself...

More on why Severus feels Phoebe is... _perfect._

**Chapter 9**_ - Hogsmeade_

Severus replaced the Charm on Phoebe and they continued on to Hogsmeade in silence. Phoebe walked slightly behind the dark man, watching his body's motion, the grace with which he moved. She felt a mixture of different emotions right now, but she was unsure which was most dominant. _Sadness_, for herself. Why did she need to endure this emotion again? _Anger_. At the situation and the connection with the man she was denied as a result. _Fear_, for Severus, for his survival and what would become of her if anything were to happen to him. _Pride_, for the man walking in front of her, he appeared to be willing to sacrifice so much, yet he seemed fearless. Why was he doing this? Was there really no other way, was he really the only one to get the information they needed?

_They_ - the Light side. Phoebe contemplated what this meant - the good side, the right side. Severus was a spy for the Light side. But that meant he was entrenched within the Dark side. What had he seen? What had he done, himself? He must have had to prove himself. She looked at him again, his dark hair, black robes and she remembered his dark, almost black eyes. The package was mysterious, alluring to her, but what did it really mean? How had he managed to become involved with the Dark side to begin with? These thoughts made her feel a little uneasy - just who was this man? But, she remembered, Dumbledore had showed faith in him, he had said Severus was a good man. Phoebe was a little confused, her intuition was failing her. What was the truth?

Just then she walked straight into the back of the man she had just been thinking about, almost tripping over. He reached around just in time to steady her.

"Sorry," she said, "I wasn't watching."

With a frown on his face, he said, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Phoebe responded, automatically.

"The last time you said that, you vomited on the floor," he remarked sarcastically.

Phoebe looked directly into his eyes, although she knew he could barely see her, "I am fine," she answered, more deliberately this time. "I was just thinking, that's all. Why did you stop so suddenly?"

"We have arrived," he announced.

"What do you mean?" asked Phoebe, looking around herself. They were standing in the middle of the lane, trees on one side and a small block of grass on the other, but otherwise, nothing else to be seen.

"You will be staying here, number seventy-seven Cauldron Lane." Severus was looking towards the patch of grass, Phoebe followed his gaze to try to work out what he was looking at, when instantly out of nothing popped up a small cottage right before Phoebe's eyes.

She jumped and clutched at Severus' arm in fright and surprise, "Where the _hell_ did that come from?" she blurted out, her heart pounding.

"It has always been here," explained Severus, "it has just been hidden from view by a charm. The _Fidelus_ charm," he continued to explain, after seeing Phoebe's confused look, "allows a person to see the dwelling only when the address has been revealed to them by the Secret Keeper. I am your Secret Keeper, only those that I tell directly will be able to have access to the cottage. You will be safe whilst you remain here."

Phoebe stared at the cottage, still holding tight onto Severus' arm. She was a little stunned at the lengths that were being taken to keep her safe. She felt it was for the most part unnecessary, as no-one knew she even existed in the Wizarding World, let alone knew that she was associated with Severus, with the exception of Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall of course.

"Come, we should go inside," said Severus, interrupting her thoughts, and he led her to the front door, opened it and ushered her inside.

Once inside Phoebe noticed the layout was similar to her house in London and she also realised all her personal belongings seemed to be here already.

"You went and got all my things?" she queried.

"The Headmaster did, I let him know where you lived. Everything should be in it's place, as you left it," he replied, silently removing the charm that had been disguising her, with his wand. Taking her coat from her and removing his own cloak, he hung them on a coat rack by the door.

Phoebe went and sat down on the couch, it was not her couch though it was similar, placed in the same position as her own had been.

"You should be comfortable here," he continued.

Just then a house-elf popped it's head out of the kitchen, "Good afternoon, Master and Mistress, I am Erlin. If there is anything you require, please just ask," it said, in a squeaky voice, then disappearing from sight again. Phoebe couldn't really tell if it were male or female, wondering briefly whether there was a gender difference anyway.

"He has been ordered to do everything you ask," informed Severus, then seeing Phoebe's wary expression, added, "He is perfectly friendly."

'Well, the creature was a _he_, it seemed,' Phoebe noted to herself.

Severus continued to stand, so Phoebe stood and walked over to him, "Well, what now?" she asked.

"Now?" he questioned, perplexed.

"Yes, now," taking the man's hand in her own, leading him to the couch to sit next to her. She was being rather forward, she knew, but she'd had quite a harrowing day and wanted to feel some closeness to Severus. She needed his comfort, she needed to be held.

"I never expected this to happen," she said, "I never expected us to… you know…be together again, when I came this morning. I thought you would just say, Okay thanks for telling me, see you later. I don't know why I thought this, I guess I just had in my head that we were... over."

Severus surveyed her, "I did not want to end things. I wanted to… get to know you, I still do," he said, softly.

"Why?" Phoebe asked the man, "why me? What is it you see in me?"

Severus seemed to be taken by surprise by the question, "What do I see in you?" he repeated.

"Yes, what is it about me that makes you want to get to know me? I'm not a witch, surely I can't compete with anything a witch may have to offer?" queried Phoebe.

Severus was silent for several moments, then fixing his eyes on hers, he answered, "I have asked myself this very question, I had always envisioned myself with a pure-blood witch. It is an expectation born of the standards I had held myself to… in the past. But I am no longer that person, I no longer have those prejudices," he took a breath and looked away from her, "I have also discovered that I will always be judged by the Wizarding World for my actions in the past," he looked back at her, "with you I was accepted… I was not judged. You have made me feel... whole, when I have not felt that in a very long time."

Phoebe's attention was fixed on the man sitting beside her on the couch, he was revealing a very significant part of himself, she did not want to miss any of it and she did not want him to stop.

Severus returned his eyes to hers and continued, "You wanted to know what I see in you… I saw that you are courageous. When you were being attacked in the alley, I watched you try to fight, even though you had no chance against that man. I see that you are open, you are not afraid to show your feelings, or say what you mean, so I am able to understand you, to trust you. I always know exactly where I stand. You are determined, you found me even though I had said you could not. You have a certain… spirit… challenging, adventurous, enticing. And you are strong, I know you have been hurt and have come out stronger, it did not destroy you, I can see."

Phoebe swallowed, it felt so good to hear him say these things about her. She had thought she was ordinary and could not understand what his interest in her could be.

"You are also… beautiful," he said, reaching his hand up and running a finger back along her jaw, then cupping his hand over her cheek. Phoebe gazed deep into his eyes, wanting him, even loving him.

"But most of all… you want me," Severus whispered, "I see it… and I need it. This is why you are… perfect, and I do not know why, but... I _need_ you!"

The man leant in to kiss Phoebe gently on her lips, she reached for him and felt him give in to his desires, passion taking over all other senses. Phoebe swung herself around and straddled his lap, he held her firmly as he continued to kiss her, working his way along her jaw and down her neck to her collar bone. She tilted her head backwards breathing hard, then he worked his way back up until he found her lips again. She ran her fingers through his hair, then he pulled away from her. He was breathing hard himself, struggling for control.

"Are you ready for this?" he whispered to her, "I will wait if you are not."

Phoebe took his hand and placed it on her abdomen, "Your child is inside me, Severus, I think we can stop pretending this was not meant to happen. I want you, I always have… yes, I am ready," she answered.

Phoebe saw that Severus had stopped breathing for a moment, he was watching his own hand as he slid it gently across Phoebe's abdomen, then looking up at her he said,

"_My_... child?" His voice sounded stunned and Phoebe suddenly understood that he was just comprehending what that meant, what it meant to him. She slipped off his lap and sat back on the couch beside him. He needed her in a different way just now, she knew.

"Yes, Severus… your child," she softly murmured to him, stroking the side of his face. "You are going to be a father, regardless of whether you are preoccupied or not." Phoebe leaned toward him and kissed him at the outer corner of his eyebrow, causing his eyes to close. He shuddered a breath and she felt him reach for her and hold her tightly… just holding her. She took in a small sharp breath of her own. She had sought Severus' comfort and had ended up needing to give him comfort, she held him to her.

"You can lean on me," she said quietly to him, "I am strong, remember." Phoebe felt Severus grasp her tighter. She ached for him and silently hoped she was enough to help him… to get him through what he had to face.

He held her there for several more minutes, before letting her go. For those few minutes Phoebe felt she had a profound connection with the man, the way she felt it was supposed to be. There were no tears, but Phoebe knew somehow that Severus was hurting. She allowed the man time to pull himself together by excusing herself to the bathroom. While in there she shed a few tears for him, wanting desperately to take him away from every source of his pain.

After she had wiped away the tears, she came out to find him still sitting on the couch. As she entered the room, she knew he had noticed her tear stained face. He stood and took her in an embrace again, but this time it felt different, he was strong this time, in control. This time, she received the comfort she had sought.

"I'm hungry," she said, eventually.

He nodded, "We shall eat together. I will have to go before it gets too late, though. Erlin!" he called out.

"You called, Master," responded the house-elf, entering the room from the kitchen.

"Dinner for two," Severus requested of the creature.

"Yes, Master," said the house-elf, immediately making his way back into the kitchen.

Two plates heaped with delicious food appeared directly on the dining table, along with goblets full of some yellow-orange liquid. Phoebe thought it smelled fantastic, realising just how hungry she was. She took Severus' hand and led him over to the table.

"What is this?" Phoebe asked the man, pointing to the goblet.

"Pumpkin juice," answered the man.

Phoebe screwed up her nose at the thought, "Eeww."

"Try it," the man suggested, "you will be surprised, I know you will like it."

Phoebe had never really been a big fan of pumpkin in the first place so she doubted it, but at his urging, she reluctantly lifted the goblet and took the smallest of sips. It was smooth and surprisingly sweet. Severus was right, she could enjoy this.

"Actually, it's not too bad," she admitted to him, with a small smile. "You'll make a witch out of me yet," she said with a smirk, "but with one small problem…"

"Magic," he finished for her, his eyes glinting. "I have enough for the both of us," he assured.

Phoebe gave the man a broad smile, "Yes, you do!" she said cheekily.

They both ate and drank, Phoebe watching the man opposite her with pride and affection. When they had finished, the dishes were cleared by magic. Although she was becoming accustomed to it, Phoebe was still amazed at the existence of magic. She particularly appreciated any magic performed by Severus, it was definitely a turn on. He was most certainly a powerful wizard, confident in his ability and secure in his talent.

The man noticed her staring at him, giving her a small smile. He rose from the table and took her hand.

"I have only a few more minutes before I must go," he informed her, leading her back to the couch. "I will return tomorrow, I have minimal teaching duties on a Sunday."

"I will be lonely without you," she stated plainly, as they settled themselves on the couch.

Considering her a moment, he said, "You will be fine, we will have hours tomorrow."

Phoebe unexpectedly felt butterflies in her stomach, she was looking forward to uninterrupted hours with him tomorrow. She lay her head in the crook of his shoulder as he put his arm around her, feeling his warmth and his fingers caressing her hairline. She felt wonderful just now, the day was ending almost perfectly. She knew he would leave soon, but refusing to let it dampen her mood, she put it from her mind. She closed her eyes, knowing she was safe, becoming sleepy. She vaguely noticed him lift her and carry her to her bed, where he kissed her tenderly on her lips.

"I will see you tomorrow," he whispered, and she heard him leave the room.

Phoebe fell asleep.

When Phoebe awoke, it was daylight. The light was streaming through the gap in the curtains. 'It must be late,' she thought, and she rose onto her elbows. She was immediately rewarded with a wave of nausea. Lying back down she tried to will the feeling to go away, but after a number of minutes, conceding she wasn't going to win, she madly dashed to the bathroom to vomit into the toilet. She lifted her head when she had finished, still kneeling on the bathroom floor.

"Wonderful," she said to herself, then blowing out her breath slowly, she rubbed her face with her hands, leaning back onto the bathroom wall, sinking to the base of it to sit.

"Do you require any assistance, mistress?" came the house-elf's voice through the open door.

Phoebe jumped at the sound, she had forgotten the creature was still in the house. As she tried to get up, she said, "No.. . I'm okay." Then she leaned toward the door to flick it shut. It banged closed and Phoebe sank back down, her head on her knees. After a few minutes, Phoebe rinsed her mouth out and showered, then returned to her bedroom to dress.

When Phoebe finally made it out to the sitting room, she noticed on her watch it was after eight-thirty.

"Breakfast, Mistress?" asked the house-elf, from the kitchen doorway.

Phoebe jumped again, "No, I don't think I can face food just yet… but thankyou," she answered hurriedly. She would need to get used to _it _being in the house. Perhaps she should make conversation and get to know it… or rather, '_him_,' she corrected herself silently.

"Erlin, did Professor Snape let you know what time he would return today?" she asked politely, using the title for Severus she had heard Professor McGonagall use the day before.

"No, Mistress. Master did not say a specific time, but he did indicate it would be sometime this morning," Erlin answered in his squeaky voice.

Phoebe walked over to the front window and pulled open the curtain a fraction, surveying the lane way she had walked yesterday afternoon. She turned her head and inspected the opposite direction up the lane and could see from this angle several more cottages much further along the lane, leading into the village. 'So this was Hogsmeade,' she thought to herself. Phoebe wanted to go out to explore, however she remembered the Headmaster explaining that she was to stay inside the house, and besides, her stomach was giving another nauseous lurch as she was considering it. She sat down quickly on the couch, curling herself into a ball, wishing she didn't have to feel so sick every morning. With a groan, she realised she had not been starting to feel better until at least after ten or eleven o'clock in the mornings - two or three hours from now.

She heard a faint pop from outside and then came a knock at the door. Erlin, the house-elf, trundled out and answered the door cautiously.

"Master." Phoebe heard his voice say.

Severus walked into the sitting room, noticing Phoebe immediately on the couch. He swept over to her, kneeling at her side.

"You are feeling unwell again, aren't you?" he asked in a concerned voice, scrutinising appearance.

"Yes, a little," Phoebe answered, greatly understating how she _really_ felt at that moment, "but it's only morning sickness, I'll be fine in a few hours."

"Have you eaten, or had anything to drink?" Severus queried.

"No, not yet. I can't face food just yet-"

Severus swung savagely on the house-elf, "Erlin!" he growled, angrily, "It is your duty to ensure Phoebe has eaten and drunk enough! You are here to protect her! If you cannot fulfil your duty, you will be dismissed… I will have you set free," he said threateningly.

The house-elf shrunk back against the wall, cowering as he scuttled into the kitchen.

"Yes Master, my apologies Master," Erlin grovelled, as he went. The man looked as though he were about to go after the house-elf.

Phoebe, who had been startled at Severus's tone, jumped up and grabbed him by his arm.

"No, Severus… stop!" she yelled, swinging the man around to face her, "It isn't his fault. Erlin offered me breakfast - I refused. Don't blame him… you cannot blame him-"

Just then Phoebe groaned and covering her mouth with her hand, dashed again for the toilet. She only just made it before she again emptied the contents of her stomach into the bowl. Crouching on all fours on the bathroom floor, she closed her eyes momentarily. She then felt Severus' hands on her upper arms.

"Come," she heard him say gently, "get up from the floor."

She opened her eyes and lifted her head to look at him.

"I need to rinse my mouth," she said exhausted, as she allowed him to help her scramble up to the sink and rinse. Then she reached an arm up around his neck, resting her head on his chest and closed her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her, almost supporting her entire weight.

"Phoebe, I can brew a potion that will help with the nausea," he offered, "I did not realise how badly you suffered."

"It won't hurt the baby, will it?" asked Phoebe, still leaning on the man, her eyes remaining closed. She was very aware that there were many medications she would not be able to take whilst she were pregnant.

"No, I know of one that is safe, it is used frequently for pregnancy sickness," he replied, reassuringly.

Phoebe huffed out a small laugh, "Thank goodness," she said, "I thought you'd never ask."


	10. Chapter 10  Connection

Warning - this one is the _hot_ one, and Phoebe shares her secret with Severus... As usual - just borrowing JK Rowling's characters and world for my amusement - will return completely unharmed, I promise.

**Chapter 10**_ - Connection_

Severus helped Phoebe back out to the sitting room. She curled up on the couch once more, Severus covering her with a throw rug. He removed his cloak and hung it at the door.

"I will brew the potion this evening, it will be ready before tomorrow morning. I will have Erlin collect it from the castle," Severus said, returning to Phoebe's side.

"You should not have blamed Erlin for my being sick, Severus," said Phoebe, remembering his outburst. "It is normal, it had nothing to do with whether I had eaten or not, I would have thrown it up anyway."

"It is his job!" Severus countered, not sounding the least bit remorseful.

"His job? Don't you feel bad treating him like that?" Phoebe asked, a little shocked at his indifference.

Severus wore a confused look on his face. "You have to be protected and have need of his service, that is why Erlin is here."

"Well that may be the case, but you cannot blame Erlin for things that are out of his control," Phoebe stated. "You wouldn't even have him here if _you_ could stay with me."

Phoebe noticed Severus look away from her, she knew she had managed to get her point across without having to be too blunt or harsh. After a short moment, he gave a small nod and said, "I will be more tolerant of Erlin in the future."

It wasn't quite the response Phoebe was hoping for, but as she was still feeling a little queasy, she settled for it. At least Severus seemed to have been able to empathise in the smallest way with the house-elf.

Severus settled himself on the couch next to Phoebe. "Will you drink something now?" he requested.

Phoebe gave him a small smile, "Oh, alright… and you may as well get me something to eat as well, although I won't guarantee it'll stay put," she said, not quite giving in to his insistence.

"Erlin!" called Severus, and the house-elf shuffled cautiously into the room.

"Yes, Master," Erlin answered, his squeaky voice nervous.

"Phoebe will have breakfast now," he ordered curtly, then after Phoebe made an irritated tsk-ing noise, he added with a roll of his eyes, "…please." She smiled, at least the man was going to make an effort to be polite.

"Just toast please, Erlin," appealed Phoebe, "…and water," she added, at Severus' sharp look. "Well, you don't want to wear it, do you?" she asked him, sardonically.

"I suppose not," Severus snapped, but he did not sound entirely unamused.

Phoebe slowly ate the food brought by the house-elf, she was hungry and was hoping to keep the meal down. Severus observed her, trying not to be obvious, but Phoebe felt as though she were being monitored by an over protective father. Slightly amused, she smiled inwardly. Perhaps he _was_ being an over protective father, the concern being for their unborn child and not just for her health. She remembered the connection he had made with the baby yesterday. 'He will make a good father,' Phoebe thought contentedly, but then more soberly, 'if he is to be given the chance.'

When she finished eating, she set the plate down on the coffee table. Severus was standing by the window, looking out. He turned to her when he heard the small clunk made by the china on the tabletop, moving back and sitting beside her on the couch again.

"I never thought I'd say how satisfying dry toast could be," she said with an amused huff. But as she noticed his smug look appear, she added, "but I usually feel better straight after I eat. I'll know in about twenty minutes whether it will stay down or not."

He gave her a quizzical look, then with a huff of his own, he said, "You are determined to be right, are you not?" raising his eyebrows questioningly. Softly he appealed to her, "Phoebe, I may not have any personal experience with pregnancy, however I do have a sufficient amount of knowledge on the subject, I have read a great deal . I can be of use, I _can_ help you through this."

Phoebe froze momentarily, and avoided his gaze. She was just now having an internal struggle with whether she should reveal to Severus what he did not know about her. Was she ready to talk about this? Her heart rate began to quicken and she looked down at her hands in her lap. Closing her eyes, she allowed the hurt to rise causing tears to well in her eyes. But she could still think and was still able speak, and she realised it was about time he knew. She would tell him now…

"Phoebe…?" said Severus softly, interrupting her thoughts.

"Severus," she spoke, taking a deep breath, "I do want you to help, but it isn't in the way you think. I have done this before."

Phoebe looked up at his face, it remained impassive.

"You have done this before, you mean you have been pregnant before?" he asked, his voice steady.

"Yes," she responded, "more than once."

"How many times?" he asked, curiously.

"Three." Phoebe answered.

"Three!" he remarked, stunned. "What happened, did you lose them… did you miscarry?" he asked, his voice now betraying some concern.

"No," she answered bluntly. "I gave birth… all of them were healthy," she answered, quietly.

His confusion apparent, his eyes swept over her face until they met hers once more. "I-I do not understand… where are your children?" he asked, his concern now showing in his eyes.

Phoebe looked away, she could not say it while she was looking in his eyes.

"They are dead, they were killed."

There was silence for several moments before he spoke. "How?' came Severus' voice, almost a whisper.

"In a car accident… with their father. It was raining so hard that night"

"All of them?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

"Yes," she nodded, "I lost him too," Phoebe answered, her voice beginning to shake.

Severus huffed in quiet understanding, "This is your secret?" he asked, "this is… your pain?"

"Yes…" she said and could not stop the disconsolate sob tearing from deep within her. She bent forward and buried her face in her hands, crying out as her ache became more than she could bear. Her tears flowed freely, there was no stopping them this time.

Severus reached for her, pulling her close to his chest, holding her tight. Surrounded by his comforting and supportive arms, Phoebe allowed herself to let go of her emotions fully, grieving for a loss that she had not expressed in a very long time. Severus silently held her for many minutes, patiently waiting for her grief to run it's course. When Phoebe's crying lessened, he began to soothe her with whispers of support.

"I have got you, shh, it's okay."

She took several more minutes to gather her control back, concentrating on the beating of his heart to calm her breathing and school her composure. She eventually lifted her head from her hands and reached her arms around his neck.

"I'm okay now," she told him, "I'm sorry."

Severus pushed her away slightly and caught her eyes with his, "There is nothing to be sorry about." He wiped away a remaining tear from her cheek with his thumb, then he lent in to kiss her gently on her forehead. "I am glad you told me, I will help you in whatever way you need."

Phoebe wiped her eyes with her hands. "This has helped already, it is a relief to finally tell you. I wanted to, but it has been bottled up inside me for so long I was afraid how much it would hurt when I let it come out," she said, sniffing. She reached for a tissue from the side table. "This is so stupid anyway, it happened over three years ago. I thought I was over this crying part, it is supposed to be in the past."

"You still hurt, even though you decide not to show it," the man said, "I know that instead of the outright pain, you will endure a dull ache that never seems to go away. You should allow yourself to cry."

His comment suggested that he knew about pain, as if he were talking from personal experience. Phoebe gave him a quizzical look, then reached out sadly and touched his face.

"Tell me about it some day," she simply said, and gave him a quick hug. Somehow she knew she would not get an explanation today.

"We have to stop doing this," Phoebe declared, with a small laugh, "I haven't got the energy... it has been a pretty intense couple of days."

"I have to agree," Severus said nodding, "we are indeed laden down with emotional luggage."

This comment made Phoebe laugh out loud and she reached up to him and hugged him again. "Baggage," she corrected him.

"Indeed," he replied.

"You make me laugh," she said still giggling, then as she looked intently into his eyes again, she said more seriously, "I know you keep a lot of yourself hidden away, but I like what you have shown me, I want to see more. I want to see all of you… in time."

Phoebe excused herself to the bathroom at that moment, pregnant women always need to go to the toilet, and she remembered she needed to clean her teeth again. She definitely felt in the mood to kiss this man just now.

When Phoebe had finished in the bathroom, she opened the door to find Severus waiting just outside it for her.

"You are not sick again, are you?" he asked her.

With a twinkle in her eye, she answered, "No, I am feeling really good, right now."

The man read her mood correctly and before she knew it he had pushed her gently until her back was up against the wall. Holding her shoulders, he tenderly kissed her, gently sliding his hand down her side to lay on her hip. She responded to his gentle kisses and reached out to cup his face in her hands. Their kisses became deeper and she rubbed a hand seductively down Severus' chest, which encouraged him further. He reached under her shirt, caressing the bare skin with his hands. He worked his way up until his hand reached the swell of her breast, and she pushed against him, gasping, as he ran his hand across the fabric of her bra. He had stopped kissing momentarily to undo her blouse buttons, when she stopped him.

"What about Erlin?" she asked, breathing hard.

"Erlin!" Severus called out, loudly.

The house-elf appeared immediately at the end of the hallway. "Yes, Master?" he inquired.

"Go to Hogwarts, do not return until I summon you," ordered Severus.

"Yes Master," Erlin obeyed, immediately Disapparating with a pop.

Severus then turned his attention back to the woman standing in front of him, leaning in to kiss her again. "Are you still ready for this?" he asked, smoothing a hand down her hair.

Phoebe was still breathing hard, "Yes, Severus, I want to..."

The words were barely out of her mouth when she felt the man take her by the hand and lead her to the bedroom. Once inside, he closed the door. He moved up close to her again, kissing her gently once more, forcing her to reach for him to deepen the kiss. She felt a yearning, a desperation to have him.

"Oh dear God, I want you," she whispered to him. She began to undress him, 'Damn the excessive amount of buttons!' she thought, fumbling with each black button down his torso in turn. Severus worked on removing her clothing, an easier job by far.

"Beautiful…" he whispered to her, when she stood in front of him, her clothes discarded.

Phoebe felt a little vulnerable, as he still had his trousers on, but she allowed him to pull her close to him. As she was almost overwhelmed by his scent and small moan escaped her lips. She kissed him and he caressed her naked frame with his hands and as she pressed herself against his body, she could feel him _hard_ against her hip.

She slid her hand down to his groin and ran her hand along his length, the black trouser material between them, causing him to gasp, his eyes closed, fighting for control. "Oh, Merlin," he breathed quietly and Phoebe took that moment to undo his final button, pushing his trousers from his hip, releasing the man from his constraints.

As Severus wrestled with the trousers, trying to remove them from his ankles, Phoebe climbed onto the bed and slid beneath the covers. She admired the man's entire body and giggled a little to herself until he finally rid himself of his remaining stubborn garment. He walked to the opposite side of the bed, pulled back the covers and slipped in slowly next to her.

Lying on his side, propped up on his right elbow, he stroked her hair again, then traced his thumb over her lips and cheek. Phoebe ran her hand over his chest and down his arm, noticing for the first time the indistinct pattern of a faint tattoo on his left forearm. Her hand came to rest on his hip, applying slight pressure to pull him toward her. He bent to kiss her again, his hand caressing her shoulder, then moving down over her breast. Her eyes were closed and she felt him bestow small kisses across her chest and breasts, down to her stomach, sending shivers to her entire body. Caressing her hips and thighs with his strong hands, he then worked his way back up to her lips, moving his body on top of hers as he did so, supporting his weight on his elbows.

She lifted her hips to his as she felt him seek, then find, pushing himself into her with a groan. Phoebe reached up and pulled his head down so she could kiss him again. She relaxed into his rhythm, arching to receive him time after time, gasping as he brought her closer and closer to release. Wrapping her legs around him, she cried out when he caused her to tip over the edge into an exquisite wave of delight, vaguely aware of him arriving at his own moment of ecstasy, heightening her own sensations. Several moments later he collapsed on top of her, breathing in ragged breaths and she held him, trying to catch her own breath.

He removed himself from her, lying beside her, covering them both with the bed covers as Phoebe rolled onto her side and cuddled up to him. She nestled her head into the crook of his shoulder and Severus held her firmly with the same arm, pressing his lips to the top of her forehead, tracing his fingers over her arm that was draped across him. She closed her eyes, listening to his heart rate slowly return to normal. They remained silent like this for several minutes.

"What were their names?" Severus suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

Phoebe lifted her head to look at him, "Their names?" she queried, although she suspected she already knew what he was asking.

"Your children… what did you name your children?" he clarified.

She abruptly sat up, holding her front covered by the blanket, but leaving her back exposed. "Jacob, Skye and Tristan," she answered, her voice shaking a little.

He sat up next to her, placing his arm around her back, "You will get cold," he said, pulling the blanket around her properly. "I have upset you, it was a stupid, thoughtless question to ask," he admitted, "please forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive, Severus, it wasn't a stupid question," she said, looking to him. "They have names, we should use them."

"Lie back down," he implored, turning on his side as he lowered himself to the bed again, "please…"

Phoebe allowed him to pull her gently back to lie next to him. He placed his hand over her stomach, "I only asked as I was thinking about names for our baby, I did not mean to be insensitive," he explained.

Phoebe couldn't help but smile, "You were thinking of baby names?" she asked, covering his hand with her own.

He blushed a little, "Yes, well we will have to call him something," he said, slightly flustered.

"Him?" Phoebe questioned, her eyebrows raised.

He snorted sarcastically, "You know what I mean," he said, giving her a stern look.

"They?" she added teasingly.

He suddenly developed a serious look on his face, "Do you have a family history of twin births?"

"No," she said, then suddenly with thoughtful concern, "You?" Phoebe felt a small flutter in her stomach, as he still wore the serious look on his face.

"Severus?" she prompted, as he still hadn't answered a few moments later.

After another short pause, a grin broke out on his face. "No," he assured, "though your expression was priceless," he remarked, with an amused chuckle.

"You cheeky git!" Phoebe accused, shoving him on his shoulder, thoroughly disgusted that he had managed to fool her momentarily. "Don't do that to me." The man reached out and pushed a stray hair from her face.

Suddenly she pulled him into a hug, kissing him fiercely on his lips. "It felt really good, you know."

"What did?" queried Severus.

"You know… just now," she said. "Today has been nice… it felt… right."

Severus looked intensely at Phoebe, "The day is not over yet," he said, pulling her to him into another deep kiss…


	11. Chapter 11  Curiosity

JK Rowling owns her creations, not me. Not Phoebe's finest hour - possibly more stupid than the shortcut through the alley!

**Chapter 11**_ - Curiosity_

Late in the afternoon, Phoebe stood staring out the front window, alone. Severus had left. He had wanted to give himself plenty of time to brew the anti-nausea potion for Phoebe, before she needed it in the morning.

Phoebe had been thinking of the day they had shared, with affection. Finally she felt she had made a connection with the man worthy of the fact that she was carrying his child. She had felt comfortable enough with him today to share her past … and her bed. She had also been given a glimpse into his past and although details were scarce, she had a fairly good idea that Severus had made some bad choices earlier in his life, but now seemed to be making amends.

She closed the curtain, turning to face the kitchen, "Erlin," she called.

"Yes, Mistress," answered the house-elf, appearing at the kitchen entrance.

"Could you get me some dinner, please?" she requested.

"Yes, Mistress," he answered again, turning back to the kitchen.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Phoebe looked toward the house-elf.

"Who would that be?" she asked, her heart rate increasing. "It wouldn't be Severus, would it? Surely he wouldn't be back tonight."

"Stay there, Mistress, I will see who is at the door. I have been warned that you should not be seen," Erlin said. "Do not worry, Mistress, I can protect you," he added.

Erlin made his way to the door, opening it cautiously again. Phoebe hardly daring to breathe, remained standing behind the couch.

"Ah, Good Evening Erlin," came a familiar voice through the partly opened door.

"Good Evening, Professor Dumbledore," greeted Erlin, opening the door wider, allowing the man entry.

Phoebe breathed a sigh of relief.

"Professor Dumbledore, hello," Phoebe said, moving from behind the couch.

"Thank you Erlin," he said, nodding toward the house-elf. "Ms Hansen, it is nice to see you again," he said to her. "Sorry to intrude, but I wondered if I may have a word with you."

"Yes, of course, please come in. Actually I was just about to have dinner, would you like to join me?" she asked the old man.

"Oh yes, that would be delightful," the Headmaster answered.

"Erlin, make that dinner for two, please," requested Phoebe of the house-elf.

Promptly two plates were delivered magically to the dining table. The older man held out the chair for Phoebe to take her place at the table and then he sat in the remaining chair.

"I thought I'd have to eat alone tonight, I was afraid I'd be a bit lonely," said Phoebe.

The old man gave a small smile, "Severus has spent the greater part of the day with you, I take it."

"Yes, he has," Phoebe answered.

"I am glad to offer my company, though I am sure I will seem an inferior substitute," he responded, with a twinkle in his eye.

Phoebe blushed slightly, "Your company is greatly appreciated, Professor Dumbledore," she said, a smile on her own lips, "you are a fine substitute for Severus."

"I will get right to business then," began Dumbledore, as they both started to eat, "Severus has expressed concern regarding arrangements for the future. Specifically, if the need arises, that you have someone you can trust to assist you to give birth, as I am afraid a hospital really is out of the question, considering the circumstances."

Phoebe stopped eating and gave the Headmaster her complete attention. He continued…

"I have arranged for a wonderful lady to be available to you, if you require her help, at any time of day," Dumbledore explained. "Now, I want you to understand that I have not given any details about your situation to her, especially your connection to Severus. She is only aware of facts that she requires, that is to say, your pregnancy and approximate due date. The circumstances are complicated and although I trust Molly implicitly, it would not be wise to have your relationship to Severus common knowledge."

"Molly?" inquired Phoebe, "Is that the same Molly-?"

"Yes, the same Witch who assisted you, with her husband, outside the Leaky Cauldron," answered Dumbledore. "She is a mother herself to seven children, I believe she will be the best person to assist you during childbirth."

Phoebe ate in silence, trying to absorb all the details the Headmaster was trying to give her.

"How will I contact her?" she asked, after a number of minutes.

At this, the Headmaster withdrew a small glass ball from his robes. "This is a message sphere, when broken, it will alert the holder of it's twin that they are needed. You will need to keep it in a safe place, as it can only be used once."

Phoebe took the delicate glass sphere from the old man, turning it over to admire the intricate decoration etched upon it. "Thank you," she said, "I had been concerned about that."

"So Severus mentioned," Dumbledore responded kindly.

Phoebe then stood and put the ball into a draw of a cabinet against the kitchen wall, then returned to her seat at the table.

"What has he… done?" asked Phoebe, suddenly.

Professor Dumbledore gazed at her, a small frown creasing the old man's already wrinkled face. "Done?" he questioned, his voice sounding a little surprised.

"You will not tell Molly who my baby's father is, I am assuming for fear of retribution. What has Severus done? He told me he fears he will never be forgiven for what he has done in the past, I gather it is something serious," she said.

"That is not for me to discuss, I am sorry, Ms Hansen," he responded, "it is not my place."

Phoebe sighed audibly. "Why am I to be kept in the dark about what is going on?" she asked, frustrated. "I am an adult, not a child. I need to know what this is all about. Please tell me," she requested of the older man.

"What is it that you want to know, specifically?" he asked, looking at her intently.

Phoebe, not expecting to have her request granted, stammered, "Oh… um…" trying to form a question in her mind. "Tell me about the Dark Lord… what is it he wants?"

"Power," Dumbledore answered, gravely, "and immortality, which he has attempted to get in the past and continues to attempt to get through fear, intimidation and control. Lord Voldemort has no boundaries, no limits to the tactics he employs to achieve what he wants. He is utterly ruthless," the old man stated plainly.

"Lord Voldemort?" Phoebe questioned, a little confused.

"Yes, that is the name he is known as, although many now fear to speak it, Dumbledore explained. "You will hear him referred to as the Dark Lord, He Who Shall Not Be Named or You Know Who. However, he was named Tom Marvolo Riddle at birth. It is inconsequential what name you choose to use, he is both one and the same." Phoebe listened intently to the old man's explanations.

The Headmaster continued, "Murder is merely a means to an end. To him, life has little value, unless of course it is his own. It is widely known that he once attempted to murder a one year old baby in order to see his plans to fruition."

"Attempted?" inquired Phoebe, "The baby lived?"

"Yes, the only person to have ever survived what should have been a fatal attack. Harry Potter, he is now sixteen years old."

Phoebe gasped, "This has been going on for a long time then, the war," she said.

"Yes, Lord Voldemort is persistent," responded Dumbledore.

"How did Severus become involved with Lord… Voldemort?" she asked.

"Again, I cannot answer, that is for Severus to explain to you," answered the Headmaster, his voice understanding. "Is there anything else you wish to know?" he asked.

Phoebe was racking her brain for the questions she'd wanted answers for, but could not manage to think of any others right now. Except, "Do you trust him, do you trust Severus?"

Dumbledore fixed her with an intense gaze, and said, "Yes, Ms Hansen, I would trust Severus with my life."

Two hours later, Phoebe lay in bed mulling over what she had been told by the Headmaster during dinner. Dumbledore trusted Severus, but he would not tell her what Severus had been involved with in the past. Phoebe didn't like the sound of this, though she remembered that Severus had said himself he was no longer the same person. Taking comfort in this thought, she came to the conclusion that what mattered most was that he didn't believe in the same things any more. He had corrected his mistakes of the past, whatever they were.

Phoebe surmised that some of the mistakes and prejudices he had previously spoken about, involved Muggles. It had been these prejudices held by members of the dark side that had caused Severus to cease their relationship a number of weeks ago. He had told her she would never have been accepted by them.

Well, that meant it had to be true that Severus had changed. He had chosen Phoebe after all, actually encouraged their involvement to begin with, knowing full well she was a Muggle, and she was now expecting his child. He would never have had anything to do with Phoebe if he harboured any feelings reminiscent of the blond woman, Narcissa, at the Leaky Cauldron the day he had ended the relationship, surely.

Phoebe fell asleep feeling comfortable with her conclusion, accepting of Severus, proud of him, perhaps even… in love…

The following morning, Phoebe woke to find a tray bearing a small bottle, teaspoon and a note on the table beside her bed. She reached over slowly and retrieved the note from the tray, flattening it, and reading the small cramped handwriting.

Phoebe,

Before rising each morning, take one teaspoon of this potion.

Allow a minute for it to take effect.

Severus

Phoebe read the note over twice, then reached over to the tray again for the bottle and spoon.

"I hope this works," she said quietly to herself, as she measured the dose and emptied the spoonful into her mouth, shuddering at the bitter taste.

After waiting the minute as instructed on the note, Phoebe sat up, bracing herself for the queasy feeling with which she was so familiar. With every previous pregnancy she had been cursed with morning sickness, which often normally plagued many women in their first trimester. However Phoebe had found that she had been one of the _lucky_ women to suffer all day during the first trimester and every morning after that (having tried every remedy in the Muggle world with no success), until the day she delivered. So when the queasy feeling did not arrive, Phoebe felt ecstatic. She could not keep the huge smile from her face as she thought how this dark stranger she had met by chance had turned out to be the _God_ of all men. A potion to instantly stop morning sickness - he deserved to be knighted.

She bounded out of bed, washing up and dressing quickly, making her way into the sitting room. Phoebe felt she would finally be able to enjoy being pregnant for a change and she was looking forward to it. Positively beaming, she requested breakfast from Erlin, and ate everything prepared for her with glee, then turned to face the sitting room.

What was she going to do now?

Severus would not visit today, he had classes to conduct. Come to think of it, she wasn't even sure if he would be able to call tonight. Frowning, Phoebe thought how her _God_ was starting to crumble a little. Now she was no longer preoccupied with being ill, she seemed to have so much more time on her hands, which she had to… _waste_.

There were some magazines in the rack beside the couch, so Phoebe browsed them for a good forty minutes before she conceded that what two particular mega-movie stars did with their spare time since their very public divorce, or what tactics modern day teenagers were engaging to stay thin, really didn't hold much interest for her.

She stood up and strolled over to the window, pulling back the curtain. There was no one in the lane way. Phoebe glanced down in the direction which led to Hogwarts. What she wouldn't give to see Severus sweeping up towards the cottage right now. Turning slightly she looked in the opposite direction… toward Hogsmeade. A crease crossed her forehead. 'What was up there?' Hogsmeade was a village, one assumes there were probably shops of sorts. '_Hogs_meade - _Hog_warts, was this a village exclusive to wizards and witches, similar to the school?' This seemed to make sense to Phoebe, Hogwarts was a big secret to keep, so it seemed unlikely that a Muggle village would exist so close. Suddenly Phoebe was much more intrigued, she had greatly enjoyed her visit with Severus to Diagon Alley a few weeks ago.

'What if I just took a stroll up the lane? No one would even realise, it's not like I would talk to anyone. If anyone were to see me, nobody would guess I wasn't a Witch… except for my clothes,' she thought disheartened, looking down at her denim jeans and t-shirt. They were clearly Muggle attire. If she could just get hold of some witches robes of some kind… but how? There were none in her cupboard, she had noticed that only her own clothes filled the shelves and hangers. Then she suddenly had a brilliant thought.

"Erlin," she mumbled softly, to herself.

"Yes, Mistress," answered the house-elf, immediately appearing at the kitchen doorway.

Phoebe jumped, she had not expected the house-elf to have heard her say his name. "Oh geeze, Erlin, you scared me," Phoebe stated.

"My apologies, Mistress. Was there something you wanted?" he questioned.

Phoebe thought for a moment. 'Would it be wise to just straight out ask for the robes? Would he tell Severus?'

"Actually, I was kind of wondering… as I have nothing really to do at the moment, if you could get me some robes that a witch might wear. I just wanted to have a look at them, you know, play with them a bit," she explained, lamely.

"Yes, Mistress," and at the click of his fingers, beautiful burgundy robes appeared, draped over the couch.

Phoebe gasped at the sight of them, "Oh, they are gorgeous, thank you Erlin."

"You are welcome, Mistress," the house-elf responded, clearly pleased with the praise. "Will there be anything else?"

"No, that is all I need, thank you," Phoebe answered, picking up the garment and carrying it to the bedroom.

The house-elf returned to the kitchen.

As Phoebe closed the door to the bedroom, she bit her own lip gently. She shouldn't be doing this she knew and was starting to lose her nerve. She remembered both Dumbledore and Severus saying she was to stay in the cottage, for her own safety's sake. She frowned momentarily, but no one will notice, no one even knew she existed. 'And dressed in this,' she thought, looking down at the robes she held in her hand, 'there would be no chance I would be recognised as a Muggle.'

"Oh, stuff it," she whispered recklessly to herself, tugging at her clothes to remove them, then pulling on the robes. She admired herself in her dresser mirror, the robes were just exquisite. She found that they had a hood included. 'All the better,' she thought, she could throw it over her head if the need arose, though she doubted it would. At one last look at her reflection in the mirror, Phoebe took a deep breath and turned toward the bedroom door. Then she stopped, rummaged in the dresser draw for the remaining wizard coins Severus had given to her. 'They might come in handy,' she thought, put them in her pocket and left the bedroom.

She made her way to the front door silently, checking to make sure Erlin was not witnessing her leave, she turned the door nob and exited quickly.

Once outside in the lane, Phoebe felt a little vulnerable, though she shook off the feeling as she attributed it to paranoia. She began to walk up the lane, toward the village. Phoebe soon came to what was obviously the main street, the village was not very big. A number of shops and eating establishments were lined up along the footpath. Among them were the _Three Broomsticks_, _Zonko's Joke Shop_, although this was boarded up, _Honeydukes_, and much further up around a corner in a side street, Phoebe could see a place called _The Hogs Head_.

Beginning to feel a little guilty about leaving the cottage, Phoebe turned around and made her way back down the street, which she noticed on a sign was called High Street. As she passed the shops again, Phoebe saw another side street with a darling looking little shop named _Madam Puddifoot's teashop_, just a short way along. 'I could really go for a coffee,' she thought to herself, 'I'll just get one for the walk home,' and she headed toward the shop, opening the door and entering. She approached the counter and ordered her coffee, reaching into her pocket for the coins to pay. Behind her, she heard the bell signal that someone else had entered the shop. As she reached out for her beverage and change, one coin slipped from her grasp and dropped to the floor. Phoebe watched as it rolled toward the door.

A young man with slicked back blond hair (Phoebe guessed his age at about sixteen to eighteen years old) stooped to retrieve the coin for her, and handed it back. Phoebe smiled, thanking him, then walking past him toward the door, she noticed he was not alone.

Horror instantly filled her as Phoebe suddenly saw that the teenager was accompanied by a woman with long blond hair. The woman Phoebe knew, she recognised her from a previous encounter… _Narcissa._

Phoebe quickly tried to pull her hood over her head, as the woman was busy rustling in her own purse.

"What do you want to drink, Draco?" Narcissa drawled.

Phoebe almost had the hood completely up, when the blond woman lifted her head. At first the woman did not react, though Phoebe knew that she had seen her face. Quickly Phoebe opened the door, the bell clanging as she did, her hands shaking badly as she pulled it closed behind her, almost running from the doorway. She knew she would never make it to the corner of the street that connected with High Street if Narcissa had recognised her, so as soon as she saw the tiny alley along the side of the teashop, she ducked into it, pushing herself hard up against the wall so she could hardly be seen by anyone on the street unless they looked directly in. She was breathing hard, terrified, cursing her impetuousness that had caused her to disobey the instructions given to her by Severus and Dumbledore to stay inside the cottage.

Phoebe heard the tingling of the teashop door moments after she ducked into the alley. She held her breath, not daring to move.

"What are you talking about, Mother?" Phoebe heard the teenager's voice say.

"That was that Muggle, I did not recognise her at first, she was wearing Witch's robes," Narcissa said, her voice becoming clearer as she neared the alley.

"Muggle?" questioned the boy, "That wasn't a Muggle, I picked up a Knut for her. You're delusional, Mother," snapped the boy, impatiently. "What are you on about?"

"Don't you speak to me like that, Draco," Narcissa snapped back, "I know what I saw."

"Obviously she has Disapparated, so she can't have been a Muggle, can she?" Draco retorted.

"She must be in High Street," insisted Narcissa.

"No, she wouldn't have had time. She Disapparated, I am telling you. Come on, Mother, I want a coffee. You came all the way to school so you could yank me out of classes to talk to me, so lets do this then." Phoebe heard the jingling of the door again as Draco re-entered the teashop.

Narcissa hissed loudly, then followed her son into the shop, the bell again signalling the use of the teashop door.

Phoebe, not daring to re-emerge onto the street, followed the alley along until it joined with another, which Phoebe gratefully discovered, as she followed it also, connected with High Street. Trembling, Phoebe walked quickly along High Street, stopping briefly to toss the coffee into the rubbish bin, until she made her way back to Cauldron Lane, then ran, tears falling from her eyes, all the way to number seventy-seven.

Still shaking, she tried to open the door, but it was locked. She would have to get Erlin to let her in. Erlin answered her knocking, surprise on his face as he opened the door to allow her entry.

"Mistress, you are to stay indoors, are you not?" the house-elf asked in a confused voice.

"Don't Erlin… just leave it… please," implored Phoebe, tears still rolling down her cheeks, begging Erlin not to pursue the question. She pushed past him, making her way down to her bedroom, crumpling into a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed, tears flowing freely.

The incident had been a dangerously close call, she was immensely disappointed with her own behaviour. It had been reckless, selfish and downright stupid. She should have realised that Dumbledore and Severus would not have imposed restrictions on her such as these, with no cause.

She heard the house-elf tap lightly on the bedroom door, "Mistress, you are not injured, are you?" he asked.

"No, Erlin, I am okay," Phoebe answered, wiping away her tears. "Erlin… please don't tell Severus," she begged.

"Mistress asks an impossible request of Erlin, I am bound to inform Master, it is my duty… I am… sorry, Mistress," Erlin said sadly, turning and walking away.


	12. Chapter 12  Contrition

The consequences of Phoebe unauthorised little excursion...

**Chapter 12**_ - Contrition_

After the house-elf left, Phoebe began to feel anxious, 'What will Severus say? What will he do? He's going to be so angry, I know it.'

She did not blame Erlin, he had made it clear that he had no choice but to tell Severus. But she feared the wizard's anger would not be reserved for her alone. Phoebe did not want to get Erlin into trouble for something she was totally responsible for, but she knew how Severus felt about the house-elf. "Oh what a mess I've caused," she lamented, quietly.

Phoebe stood up, closed the bedroom door and changed her clothes. She hung the burgundy robes in the cupboard, closing the door on them, wishing Severus would hurry up and come so she could get this over with. She looked at her watch, it was half past twelve, she had been gone a couple of hours, but it would still be a long time before Severus would finish his teaching duties. Would he visit as usual and then Erlin would inform him of what had happened, or would the house-elf send him a message somehow? She felt like a disobedient child awaiting punishment… with a sigh, she remembered it wasn't the first time Severus had caused her to feel like this, except this time it was _entirely_ her own fault.

Phoebe sat in the corner of the room on the floor, not leaving that spot for the rest of the day except to go to the toilet and returning immediately afterwards. She felt such a heavy guilt that she could take no pleasure enjoying the remainder of her nausea free day, and had an increasing, and irrational, fear of Severus' reaction. He would be livid with her, she was sure, and her mind stewed over and over what he would be likely to do. Would he just pack her up and send her back to London? 'I would probably deserve it,' she thought, 'I was so idiotic!'

She saw her wristwatch indicate that it was six thirty-seven, she would have thought he would have come by now. Moments later Phoebe heard the knock at the door. It seemed that Severus had knocked extra hard this time, perhaps out of anger. She remained where she was, Erlin would let him in.

"Where is she?" Phoebe heard his muffled voice ask the house-elf and as Phoebe heard his footsteps make their way down the hall way, her heart seemed to become swallowed in dread, then he turned into the bedroom doorway. Phoebe pushed herself to her feet at once, rushing forward to him and throwing herself into his arms, surprisingly the mere sight of him causing her feel _safe_ instead of her irrational fear of him.

"I'm sorry," she blurted, beginning to sob, "I know it was stupid, I won't do that again, I'm so sorry," and amazingly she felt him holding her in return, comforting her.

"What has happened?" he asked, his voice worried.

Phoebe let go of him and looked into his face. 'He doesn't know yet, hadn't Erlin told him?'

"Erlin said he would tell you," she said, slightly confused.

"No, Erlin sent a message saying there had been an… incident," he responded. "What has happened?" he repeated.

'Oh.. God,' she thought, 'Erlin has left the details to me.' She swallowed, "You're going to be angry with me," she said quietly, taking a step away from the man.

"Tell me," he commanded, his tone taking on authority.

"I… I left the cottage," she began, deciding that complete honesty was her best tactic, "I was bored, I thought I'd go into Hogsmeade to have a look around."

Severus' face took on an incredulous look that swiftly turned to anger. "You went into Hogsmeade?" he asked, clearly not knowing what else to say. "I thought I made it perfectly clear that you were to remain inside the safe-house."

"You did… I'm sorry," she apologised, "It was a stupid thing to do."

"Why would you do such a thing? I am trying to keep you safe, trying to protect you," he said, angrily.

"I know… I'm sorry, I didn't think anybody would realise I was a Muggle. It was a mistake, believe me I won't do it again," Phoebe promised.

"How could you think nobody would realise?" he asked, incredulously, "Especially dressed like that," he said, indicating to her clothes.

Phoebe stopped breathing for a moment, biting her lower lip, "Well… I wasn't dressed… like this," she said, swallowing.

"You were not-" Severus began, then a look of dawning comprehension crossed his face. He briskly strode to Phoebe's cupboard, swung the door open forcefully, revealing the burgundy robes. He wrenched them violently from the hanger.

Phoebe put her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp.

"Where did these come from?" he demanded.

Putting her hand back down by her side, Phoebe took a deep breath and answered, "I asked Erlin for them, I tricked him into thinking I was just going to entertain myself with them," she said, brutally aware that she was now getting Erlin into trouble.

With a angry snarl, Severus turned to face the doorway, "ERLIN!" he shouted, absolutely livid.

"No, Severus, he didn't know what I was going to do," Phoebe said, grabbing at Severus' arm as he took an impatient step toward the door.

Severus snatched his arm from her grasp, sending Phoebe off balance. She fell backwards to the floor, extending her arm to break her fall. An excruciating pain shot through her wrist as she landed, and she immediately cradled the arm in front of her, crying out in pain.

As Severus realised what had happened, he went to go to Phoebe's aid, but Erlin had entered the room moments after he had been summoned by Severus and the house-elf used his own brand of magic to slam Severus forcefully against the wall and pin him there.

"Mistress, he has hurt you! I shall protect you, even from Master," the house-elf proclaimed.

"No, Erlin," Phoebe said, still in a lot of pain, "let him down… please. It wasn't his fault, it was an accident."

Erlin looked toward Severus, the man's face showed no hint of emotion, "You are calm, Master?" he asked.

"Yes, Erlin... I am calm,' responded Severus, though his voice held a trace of bitterness.

The house-elf let him down. Severus dropped lightly onto his feet. He immediately swept to Phoebe's side, throwing the burgundy robes to the floor as he went. Supporting her wrist, Phoebe whimpering at the painful movement, he helped her off the floor to sit on the end of the bed. Phoebe sensed the man was still very angry, but was holding it all in because of the current circumstances.

"I believe your wrist is broken," said Severus, after examining it, "I can mend the bone for you," he said looking at her, seeking permission. Phoebe nodded to him, then he withdrew his wand and performed a spell over her injured arm. Once he had finished, Phoebe's wrist felt normal again, the pain fading quickly. But her hands still trembled slightly from the incident.

"Thank you," Phoebe said sincerely, rubbing her other hand over the previously injured wrist, not looking at him.

The man moved away to the corner of the room. There was silence for a few minutes, the house-elf maintaining a presence in the room with them.

"There is no need for you to stay," Severus finally snapped at the house-elf, breaking the silence.

"Mistress?" Erlin checked with Phoebe.

"It's okay, Erlin, I will be fine," she answered. The house-elf left the room promptly.

"I am… sorry," Severus said, once Erlin was out of earshot.

"I meant what I said. Severus, it wasn't your fault," responded Phoebe. "And you have every right to be angry with me."

"I am not angry, I am... disappointed," he said, soberly. Phoebe felt her heart rip at his words. She felt so ashamed, she did not reply.

"So, what happened?" the man then asked, his tone sombre. "What happened in Hogsmeade? I am sure I still would not know of your - _visit _- if nothing had occurred."

This made Phoebe feel even worse, it was the truth and Severus knew it. She would have continued to deceive the man if she had had an uneventful trip. She possibly-_no_-probably would even have continued to sneak into Hogsmeade.

"I am sorry, it was selfish-"she started to say.

"_Just_… tell me what happened," he cut in, icily.

Phoebe flinched slightly at the man's tone, "I- I had just decided to come home, when I saw the tea house," she began, "so I thought I'd get a coffee for the walk home. When I was in there I dropped some money, a blond boy picked it up and handed it back to me. It was then that I noticed he was with that woman from outside the Leaky Cauldron… Narcissa."

Severus closed his eyes momentarily, sighing with disappointed exasperation. "Did she see you?" he asked stiffly.

"Yes… I tried to cover my face with the hood, but she looked up before I could get it on properly," Phoebe recounted apologetically.

"And then?" he prompted.

"And then I left the shop as fast as I could. I don't think she registered at first who I was, so I had time to duck into the alley alongside the shop. I heard them both come out, she was telling her son that I was '_that Muggle_'," Phoebe explained.

"She told Draco!" he said, his voice alarmed. "Tell me exactly what was said, this is extremely important!" Severus demanded, striding up to face Phoebe, his expression echoing the alarm in his voice.

Phoebe looked into his concerned face, "He didn't seem to know what she was talking about, he kept saying how I couldn't have been a Muggle as I had a knut, and that I must have Disapparated, so I _had_ to be a Witch. Narcissa then said, she _knew_ what she had seen, that she hadn't recognised me at first because I had witch's robes on - but it didn't sound like she convinced him. Eventually they both went back into the tea house, Draco was demanding his coffee, telling her that she had dragged him out of classes to talk to him, so she'd better get on with it-" Phoebe paused for a moment, then came to a stark realisation, "Oh no… he is one of your students, Draco… Narcissa's son - isn't he?" she asked.

"Yes," the man answered with a small nod, "but he is more than that… he is… crucial."

"Oh my God… what have I done?" Phoebe breathed, fearing that she may have exposed all of Severus's defences. Putting her hands over her mouth, she stammered, "I'm so… sorry," tears welling in her eyes.

The man just looked away, toward the curtained window.

"What can I do to fix this? Severus, tell me what I can do!" she said desperately, stepping towards him.

"Nothing… you will do nothing," he said, bluntly.

Phoebe approached him even closer, placing her hands on his chest. She took heart in the fact that he did not flinch at her touch.

"Will you be… alright… will you be safe?" she asked, trying to catch his gaze.

"I do not know…" he said, then after a pause he looked back to her face, "I… do not think Narcissa is a problem. She still has no evidence." He became thoughtful once more, "But... you must _not_ go out again." Severus took a hold of Phoebe's shoulders, his gaze intense, "Can I trust that you will heed me this time?"

"Yes… yes, Severus, I swear," she answered, throwing her arms around his neck. "Please forgive me, I've learnt my lesson, I'm sorry." She felt relieved when she felt him embrace her in return.

"You are... shaking," he remarked. Phoebe only just now realised that he was right, she was still trembling.

"I was so scared," she breathed, burying her face in his chest.

"It is over now, you are safe," he said, smoothing her hair as he held her.

The man continued to hold Phoebe for several minutes, until she had stopped shaking. After checking with her that she was okay and that the baby was alright after the fall, he led her out to the dining room.

"You have not eaten lunch today, have you," he said. It was not a question.

"No," she admitted.

"We shall eat, then," he suggested, ordering food from the house-elf.

They both sat at the laden table, although Phoebe did not eat much. She was still worried over what she had done earlier today.

"You did not say whether you received the potion I made for you," Severus asked.

"Oh, yes... I did, thank you, it worked... well," then looking down at her lap, she said, "I am sorry I took advantage of that, Severus."

"It is over," said the man, "I am glad you no longer feel ill."

After Severus had finished his meal, he rose from the table, "I have to get back to the school," he announced.

Phoebe remained sitting, "Okay," she said, miserably.

Severus reached out his hand for hers, helping her rise from the table to him. "Everything will be alright, I will sort it out," he assured, pulling her close to him. "Just please… stay inside."

"I will, I promise," she said, holding him tight. "I understand I may have mucked things up for you. Please… be careful."

Severus leaned in and kissed her tenderly, "I will see you again," he simply said in response, leaving promptly through the front door.

A feeling of terror lingered at the fringes of her mind, as she heard the faint pop of him Disapparating from the lane way, but the feeling was kept at bay as she continued to focus on his final comment to her, _'I will see you again'_.

Phoebe was curled up on the couch half an hour later, taking out her frustration at herself on the cushion. She was little be little plucking the threads from the edges, causing it to become more and more frayed. How could she have been so stupid, she had really done some major damage today. All because she was bored… already, it had only been one day, for heaven's sake. She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all. How she wished she could go back and undo the entire mess.

After another ten minutes she made the decision to go to bed, she changed into her pyjamas and then decided she wanted a drink of water so she pulled on her dressing gown. She entered the kitchen, looking around for Erlin. The house-elf did not appear to be here, or for that matter, anywhere in the cottage. She shrugged to herself, it's not like she didn't know how to get herself a drink. Finding a glass, she filled it at the tap and drained the water from the glass. As she placed the vessel on the sink, Erlin Apparated into the kitchen right beside her, startling Phoebe and causing her to knock over the glass, shattering it into a number of pieces.

"Christ, Erlin!" she exclaimed, her heart racing, "Don't you people ever give a warning!"

"Sorry, Mistress," Erlin answered, "No, Mistress, I will do that," he said, as Phoebe was reaching to clean up the broken glass.

"Oh, right," she agreed, knowing that Erlin would use magic to clear it, "thanks." Phoebe then noticed that Erlin was holding a rather large package wrapped in brown paper. "What is that?" she asked, curiously.

"It is for you, Mistress," answered the house-elf, 'it is from Master.'

"From Severus?" Phoebe inquired, taking the heavy package from Erlin's outstretched arms.

"Yes, Mistress, it is the reason I was not here to get your drink," he explained, "Master summoned me."

"Oh, well thanks," she said, taking the package out of the kitchen, "I'll open it in the bedroom. Goodnight, Erlin."

"Goodnight, Mistress," he replied.

Phoebe carried the package down the hallway into her bedroom, placing it on her bed. 'What had Severus sent,' she wondered. She climbed up onto the bed beside the parcel and began to tear off the brown paper. 'Books!' she thought as the wrapper fell away revealing the contents, 'he has sent me books?' There was a small note also enclosed, so she took it and unfolded it. It was a very brief message, it read;

Phoebe,

To help alleviate your boredom.

Severus

Tears welled in her eyes, her bottom lip trembling. Severus had sent her books to read so she wouldn't be so _bored_. Phoebe knew she hardly deserved it, she was such an idiot, her punishment for her stupidity today should have been to sit with nothing to do for weeks on end. But here was a pile of books for her to occupy her time with, chosen especially for her by the man. 'He must care for me,' Phoebe thought, 'why else would he have bothered?' But then her heart felt heavy as her actions of the day swam through the forethoughts of her mind, 'Or perhaps it was just the only way he knew how to keep her out of trouble.'

Phoebe piled the books up onto the bedside table, along side the small bottle of potion, and prepared for bed. As Phoebe turned and removed her dressing gown, she noticed the burgundy robes still on the floor, lying in a heap where Severus had tossed them. She swallowed guiltily, then stooped to pick them up. Upon hearing the faint tinkle of the remaining wizard coins, Phoebe reached into the robe pocket and removed them, returning the coins to her dressing table draw. Then she rolled the robes into a small bundle and stuffed them deep into the rear of the wardrobe, wiping away a single tear that was rolling down her cheek. Phoebe went to sleep, hoping and trusting that she would have a much better day the following day.


	13. Chapter 13  The Vow Fulfilled

This chapter contains exerpts from JK Rowling's original works - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Chapter Twenty-seven - The Lightnin-Stuck Tower, page 541-556 (UK version) and Chapter Twent-eight - Flight of the Prince, page 557-569. All you recognise as hers, well... is hers and I in no way wish to claim otherwise.

What Severus experienced on that fateful night...

**Chapter 13**_ - The Vow Fulfilled_

Severus was feeling drained and was at a loss to explain the woman's behaviour. He was sure he had made it clear how dangerous and unpredictable the situation was, and had also thought he had stressed the need for her to stay within the walls of the safe-house. Upon reflection he decided he must not have explained it properly to her. But even still, Phoebe appeared to be very intelligent and had even proven herself to be extremely insightful, so why she gone and done something so thoughtless and damaging, Severus could not understand.

Severus took a seat in his armchair, thinking about the woman and the events of the previous few days. Perhaps it was the shortcomings of her being a Muggle, not realising the extent of the threat that was currently gripping the Wizarding world. Perhaps it was _this_ that had prevented Phoebe from seeing what a huge risk she was taking by going into Hogsmeade.

Severus had just sent the house-elf back to Cauldron Lane with the selection of books for Phoebe. 'This would keep her occupied,' he thought, she would be less inclined to wander from the safety of the cottage if she had something to do. He had to keep her safe, it was important he knew that he could concentrate on his other duties without needing to worry about Phoebe.

But worry he did, not simply only for her protection but for the woman herself, she was important to him for some reason even his mind could not put into words and he felt obliged to ensure she was… content - _this_ was the other reason he had carefully chosen a selection of books which would give her a greater understanding of the world in which she was now existing… his world.

'Well,' he decided, 'the message about the danger she was in seemed to have sunk in now.' Phoebe must have been terrified, as he had felt her shake in his arms for a good ten minutes, many hours after the events in Hogsmeade had taken place.

His conscience squirmed a little at this thought, perhaps she was shaking as a result of his show of anger this evening and the consequences it had produced. He had not meant to hurt Phoebe, but did that excuse him? His temper could even have endangered his unborn child and he was thankful that both Phoebe and the baby appeared to be fine.

Severus had always been extremely successful at controlling his emotions, however he had never seemed to have so much invested in them before becoming involved with Phoebe. This game was changing and Severus needed to adapt to the shift in the rules.

Tomorrow, Severus would face Draco and learn if the boy shared any of his mother's suspicions. Just how much had Narcissa discussed with him about Phoebe and her connection to Severus? He would also need to inform Dumbledore of Phoebe's escapades and further complication regarding Narcissa and Draco first thing in the morning, as the Headmaster was not available this evening.

The man ran his hands over his face: he felt weary. His added burden was encroaching on his already limited time. Although, as nothing would be resolved tonight due to the Headmaster's absence, Severus went to his office to complete the grading of Second year essays, the topic; Werewolves. Over two hours later, after completing the marking, the man momentarily rested his head on his desk top. He would close his eyes for just a second. He felt exhausted; all the extra pressure, all the extra worry…

Severus was woken from his slumber with a start. Someone was pounding on the door of his office, calling desperately for him. Immediately he was wide awake, leaping to his feet as the knocker burst through the door.

"Filius… what is it?" he said to the tiny Charms Professor.

"Severus… there are… Death… Eaters!" said Professor Flitwick, clearly out of breath, "Upstairs… near the… Astronomy tower, we… need your… help!"

Severus froze. 'Already?! It was happening already!? But the Headmaster is not even here!'

"Of course," he said to tiny Professor Flitwick, leading the way to the door. Suddenly he thought, Filius cannot be allowed to follow, he would only get in the way. He withdrew his wand and turned on the Charms Professor, stunning him with a spell. 'At least this way _he_ will be safe,' he thought.

Exiting his office door, he discovered two students; Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood. 'Potter's friends? What in Merlin's name were they doing here at this time of night? Of course, keeping an eye on _him_. Potter must have told them to observe his every move whilst Dumbledore were absent, but… how could Potter know Dumbledore was absent?' It was a puzzle Severus simply did not have time to answer.

Thinking quickly, Severus told the two girls to check on Professor Flitwick, "He seems to have collapsed… stay with him," he said, as he ran from the dungeons. 'Two more out of harms way,' he thought, with a small amount of satisfied relief. He continued running down the corridor, making his way up to the Astronomy tower, trusting he was not too late.

As he approached the corridor, off which led the stairs that ascended to the highest tower, Severus heard the commotion of the battle ahead. He gripped tight to his wand and rounding the corner he saw a number of the Order of the Phoenix members, and even students, engaged in battle with a few Death Eaters. There were a number of casualties lying motionless on the ground, but Severus could not concern himself with them - _he_ had a job to do. He recognised the stairs was blocked by a curse, a curse he knew only those with the Dark Mark burned onto their forearm could pass through. Immediately he sprinted up the stairs, passing through as though the curse were not there. The mark on his own arm seared painfully, however he did not flinch and for once in his life he felt thankful for his decision many years ago to be inducted into the Dark Lord's ranks.

Emerging through the door at the top of the stairs and onto the tower ramparts, Severus took in the scene… an obviously weakened Dumbledore cornered, wandless, with four Death Eaters including the blood soaked, untransformed werewolf by the name of Greyback, surrounding him. And Draco Malfoy standing at the forefront, holding his wand on the Headmaster, preparing, Severus knew, to murder the old wizard. 'How had Draco managed it? It was an almost foregone conclusion that the boy would fail in the task set for him by the Dark Lord, yet here he was.' Perhaps Severus had underestimated the blond teenager.

"We've got a problem, Snape," one of the Death Eaters announced to him, "the boy doesn't seem able…"

Relief spread through Severus, he could fulfil his duty without challenge, wondering briefly whether he could even diffuse the situation.

Then Severus heard the Headmaster's voice, "Severus…" he spoke softly. The dark man's eyes darted to the old man struggling to remain upright. Dumbledore was pleading to Severus, pleading for him to follow through with the difficult request of many months ago, knowing that if he did not complete Draco's task and protect the boy, Severus would… die.

Severus walked forwards, roughly pushing Draco aside. The other Death Eaters fell back as he silently took command.

Mustering his hate of what he was being forced to do, he stared into the face of the old man.

"Severus… please…" Dumbledore spoke again, staring back at Severus, begging for his compliance. Severus delved into the old man's mind, something he would never have attempted under any other circumstance, and there on the surface he found the memories that sealed his fate. _Drinking a green poison - determination, the knowledge of Death - calm acceptance. Arguing with Severus, insisting there is no other way. And the treasured words of loving encouragement long ago spoken - Be strong, Severus, be brave… for me… for all!_'

'Do it now,' Severus demanded of himself, and he raised his wand, pointing it straight at the only man who had ever fully trusted him… cared about him, and the hatred boiled over as he spat the lethal words.

"Avada Kedavra!"

He watched as the green jet of light left his wand, striking the Headmaster in the chest, blasting him into the air, causing him to fall backwards over the battlements and out of sight.

"Out of here, quickly," Severus said to the remaining Death Eaters, grabbing Draco by the scruff of his neck and forcing him through the door to the staircase. He had to get the Death Eaters out of the school as quickly as possible, preventing them from inflicting even more damage than they already had. As he made his way down the stairs, pushing Draco ahead of him, he remembered the blood covering the werewolf. His job done, he now allowed his mind to wonder with horror just _who_ exactly had been his victim.

"It's over," he shouted to the Death Eaters remaining in the downstairs battle, "it's time to go!" He had to remove the danger from the school and prevent any more harm befalling the remaining students and staff - it was the least he could offer the Headmaster now. Severus sprinted with Draco to the end of the corridor and rounded the corner.

"To the grounds, Draco, we will Disapparate at the school boundary!"

"We could go through the cabinet…" Draco began to explain, slowing down.

"We do not have time to argue, Draco!" Severus spat, interrupting the boy. "Run!"

The teenager and Severus made their way as fast as possible down to the Entrance Hall, passing a few students who had left their beds to investigate the commotion. Severus ignored them all, urging Draco to pick up the pace upon entering the grounds.

A little under half way toward the school boundary, Severus noticed Hagrid emerge from his hut, passing a tethered Hippogriff and heading for the castle. 'Stay inside you fool!' he thought pointlessly to himself.

A minute later, Severus saw a jet of red light soar past him within inches of his head. He shouted out , "Run Draco!" and turned to face his attacker. _Harry Potter_ was approximately twenty yards away and he was raising his wand for another attack. Potter never did trust Severus, the boy could only have assumed Severus was always on the Dark Side, but it had to be this way for now. The time would come when Severus would rectify this, but there was much to be done between now and then.

"Cruc…" the boy began to yell, but Severus blocked the curse, knocking the teenager backwards to the ground before he could complete it.

Potter rolled over, scrambling to his feet. "Cruc…" he yelled again.

Severus blocked the spell again, sneering at Potter's pitiful attempts. Who did he think he was dealing with? Severus had had many years experience with the most unsavoury members of the Dark Side - he was not about to be bettered by a teenager. It took a great deal of skill to even execute those particular curses the boy was attempting.

"No Unforgivable Curses from you, Potter!" he shouted. "You haven't got the nerve or the ability…"

"Incarc…" the boy attempted again with a different spell, but Severus deflected this one also, with exceptional ease.

"Fight back!, Fight back, you cowardly…" Potter screamed at him.

Severus had no intention of fighting back, he allowed himself to taunt the boy, but never wanted to harm him. He was too important in the overall plan. But the teenager was now accusing Severus of cowardice! This boy had no idea of what Severus risked losing, or of the courage it took for him to follow through on Dumbledore's plan. Potter had the arrogance of his father before him.

"Coward, did you call me, Potter?" Severus shouted, "Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?"

"Stupe…" Potter attempted another curse.

"Blocked again, and again, and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!" sneered Severus, as he blocked the curse again. When was this boy going to learn what it will take to defeat the Dark Lord? Such elementary skills were what had kept Severus alive for so long, this boy had so much to master before he could even attempt to take on the Dark Lord, as Severus knew (having heard the prophecy now in full) he one day would.

Severus yelled at the Death Eater that was now attacking Hagrid, "Now come! It is time to be gone, before the Ministry turns up…"

"Impedi…" the boy shouted once more, but before he completed the spell, the Death Eater Severus had just yelled to aimed the _Cruciatus_ curse at the teenager. Harry Potter was now writhing on the ground in complete agony.

"No!" Severus roared, "Have you forgotten our orders?" Severus quickly invented the excuse, "Potter belongs to the Dark Lord - we are to leave him! Go! Go!" He breathed a sigh of relief when the Death Eater did not question him, obeying the order he barked at him immediately.

"Sectum…"

Severus could not believe his ears, Potter was now trying to use his own inventions against him. He flicked his wand and the curse was repelled yet again, however rage was now welling within him.

"Levi…" Potter tried again.

"No, Potter!" screamed Severus, livid, all reason leaving him. Severus aimed a non-verbal curse at the boy, knocking him backwards, his wand thrown from his hand when he landed. Severus approached the teenager. He had just been trying to _help_ the boy, yet Potter continued to attack him, insulting him by using the spells he had invented himself as a teenager, just as the boy's father had done many years before.

"You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them - I, the Half-Blood Prince!" Severus admitted, knowing Harry had been using his old potions text, his secret childhood title written within. "And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so… _no_!"

Severus hexed Harry's wand out of reach as the teenager dove for it.

"Kill me, then," said the boy, rage and contempt showing on his face, "Kill me like you killed him, you coward…"

"DON'T CALL ME COWARD!" screamed Severus, completely out of control, his own guilt contributing to his rage. Slashing at the air with his wand, he whipped Harry across the face with a curse, sending the boy crashing again to the ground.

Suddenly the Hippogriff which had been tethered at Hagrid's hut, flew at Severus, slashing at him with it's razor-sharp claws. Severus staggered backwards, involuntarily dropping his wand to clutch at his shoulder which was searing in pain where the beast had made contact. He turned and ran toward the school boundary as fast as he could, still holding his badly injured shoulder, hearing the Hippogriff right behind him screeching in earnest. As he passed the gates, he Disapparated with a swish of his cloak a mere instant before the creature would have caught up with him.

As Severus Apparated, he stumbled, collapsing onto one knee. The pain was almost unbearable, but he must remain focused, he was nearly there. The only place he could picture in his mind when he Disapparated had been seventy-seven Cauldron Lane… Phoebe's. It was his only true sanctuary now and in the raw emotional state he was in just now, it was the only place he would be safe.

Severus forced himself to stand, making his way to the door, knocking hard, then leaning heavily on the door frame. The house-elf did not answer the door immediately, so he knocked again. He noticed he was shivering a little and a sharp pain in his shoulder snatched his attention. He began to move away his hand that was supporting it, but found his fingers were sticky with his own blood. He groaned as the slight movement resulted in even more pain which made his head swim, so he reapplied the pressure to his wound sucking in deep breaths.

The house-elf had still not answered Severus' insistent knocks, so several more times he pounded on the wooden door becoming more and more desperate until he heard movement on the other side. 'Merlin, was the elf going to get it this time,' he thought brutally, desperation clouding his thoughts. Severus' legs were now feeling weak, his mind becoming hazy and his head was starting to feel faint, but he gripped hard to what clarity he retained until finally the door was opened… by Phoebe.

"**S**everus!" Phoebe exclaimed, noticing as the light fell on his face that the man did not look well at all. She opened the door wider for him, steadying him when he staggered inside.

Phoebe went to hug him but stopped when she noticed that his usually immaculate cloak and coat were shining oddly in the light.

"What is this… what happened?" she asked, reaching her hand out to touch the liquid that was staining the fabric. As she brought her hand back in front of her face, she saw that her fingers were covered in deep red blood. Looking again she lifted Severus's hand away from his shoulder, at which he cried out in pain and clutched at her arm fiercely, and Phoebe saw where the material had been torn in a number of places. Severus's face was now extremely pale and suddenly the man collapsed to his knees. Phoebe grabbed at him to try and break his fall, but this only resulted in her being dragged to the ground along with him.

"Severus… oh Christ… Severus, what happened?!" she asked fearfully, her hand cupping his cheek, trying to get him to look directly at her. But his face wore only an expression of frightful pain, and she knew he could not explain anything to her in his condition just now.

She had to do something to help him, and immediately Phoebe began to undo his coat to inspect his wounds. "Severus… oh my God, these cuts are so deep," she said in astonishment, as she had pulled the coat back far enough to see some of the damage.

"I need to get your clothes off, Severus," and Phoebe proceeded to remove Severus' cloak and coat completely. The man permitted her to do so, flinching and moaning gruffly as she moved his arm on his injured side to allow the coat to slip off. Phoebe noticed that the faint tattoo she had seen on Severus' forearm was now a dark black and astonishingly vivid against his pale skin. The skull intertwined with a snake was clearly visible through the remaining white shirt material and she wondered briefly what that meant, she had never seen a tattoo behave like that before.

Both garments Phoebe removed from the man were soaked in red, Severus had lost a lot of blood. Finally she ripped away his shirt, exposing the lacerations for her to examine properly. Blood was still flowing, but it seemed to be fairly slow now. Looking back at his exceptionally pale face, she wondered to herself whether that may be because he didn't have much left within him. After another good look at his wounds, she swallowed feeling utterly useless, he needed a surgeon to help him, not simply first aid - there really was nothing she could do for him.

"Severus... you are going to have to heal yourself," she said quietly to him, "these cuts are too deep, I don't think there is anything much I can do."

"I can't…" he whispered, his laboured, shallow breathing scaring Phoebe, "I-I dropped my… wand," he explained, his voice sounding strained. He was visibly shaking now, and every breath was accompanied by a soft whimper she instinctively knew he could not prevent. His injury was extremely serious and it was likely he could die if he did not get help soon…

"Oh… shit," she whispered to herself, a little overwhelmed, then suddenly pulling herself together she reached over and seized a cushion from the couch.

"Lie down, quick, before you fall down," she insisted, helping him to ease himself to the floor, placing the cushion beneath his head. "Erlin!" she called out, loudly. Maybe the house-elf could help… or get help at least! When he did not respond, she stood and went into the kitchen.

"He's not here..." she said aloud, completely at a loss of what to do next and she began to panic. She turned in circles swearing to herself, trying furiously to get her mind to settle on a course of action - Severus needed her, he was bleeding to death!

"I need Erlin," she decided, "Erlin!" she yelled out, hoping that wherever the house-elf was, he would hear her… but the elf did not materialise.

"Shit!" she swore, trotting back into the sitting room, "Severus… how the _fuck_ do you summon him?" she spat in frustration, retuning to kneel at the man's side.

"With my wand…" he whispered, his voice now fainter than before.

Phoebe's blood ran cold. "NO!" she shouted, "no…" she repeated more softly, beginning to sob, not knowing what to do. She clutched his hand in hers and forcing his attention onto her in desperation, she pleaded, "Severus… please, I love you… tell me what to do."

A loud pop was heard from the kitchen and the house-elf appeared in the door way.

"Erlin, thank Christ!" Phoebe blurted, her tears flowing, "Severus is hurt.. you have to help him… please!"

The house-elf hurried to Phoebe's side, inspecting Severus' injuries, "I can heal the wounds, Mistress, do not worry. Please stand aside," Erlin requested, immediately performing the magic which began knitting the deep gashes together.

Phoebe gladly shuffled out of his way, moving to Severus' other side to reassuringly take his hand. When the last wound was closed, although the fresh scar was still visible, Phoebe breathed a little easier. At least Severus was not going to lose any more blood… but he was still extremely weak.

"I need… a blood restorative… draught," Severus muttered, "and Dittany."

"But... where am I supposed to get those from?" Phoebe asked, convinced Severus must be a little delusional.

"Erlin… can get them... from my private store cupboard… at Hogwarts," the man answered, his breathing laboured.

Phoebe was very concerned for the man lying on the floor. His breathing indicated he was in a precarious condition. She moved closer to him, rubbing her hand on his uninjured shoulder, "Erlin will have Professor Dumbledore get them," she assured him, but Severus became agitated.

"No! Get them… directly from my... store cupboard," he said, with some difficulty.

"Talk to... no-one, Erlin," he insisted, with what little effort he had left.

"Okay... okay, he will… shh!" Phoebe agreed, so that the man would calm. "Go, Erlin," Phoebe said, nodding toward the house-elf. She watched as the house-elf stood and disappeared with the customary _pop_.

Severus felt cool to Phoebe's touch, so she left the man's side to gather a few blankets, then spread them over him. He was resting with his eyes closed when she returned to kneel at his side once more, taking his hand in one of hers. Watching his chest carefully, Phoebe kept a good eye on the man's breathing pattern as she waited for the house-elf to return. Severus was so pale. Phoebe reached out her free hand to brush a few stray hairs from his face. Then, noticing she was still covered in his blood (though it had dried on her skin), feelings of shock and fear that this man was in fact mortal even though he was a wizard, hit her hard.

"Not again…" she whispered pleadingly, "I can't lose another…" taking a shuddering breath, fighting the tears that were threatening to fall.

She felt the man squeeze on her hand, "Severus? What is it?" Phoebe asked, concerned.

"I'll be fine… don't fret," he whispered, "I will live."

The tears spilled from Phoebe's eyes regardless of her fight against them. She hadn't meant for him to witness her fear and panic, she knew it was just an irrational reaction born of her past tragedy. She brought his hand to her cheek, "Shh, Severus," she said to him, "I'm just being stupid, rest… I know you will live."


	14. Chapter 14  Killer

Harry Potter and the Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling...

The awful truth about Severus...

**Chapter 14**_ - Killer_

Phoebe watched as the man's breathing eventually evened out; he was sleeping. She glanced up from the man every few minutes, willing the house-elf to reappear before her eyes. Erlin seemed to be taking a long time.

Her mind whirled with a myriad of questions, 'Where was Erlin, why was he taking so long? What if Erlin couldn't find the things Severus had asked for? What were they again? A blood... restorative draught and … Distany-- no-- Dittany, that was it!' Phoebe would go to Hogwarts herself and look for them if Erlin came back empty handed. She would find Professor Dumbledore and he would know where to look, he would help her get what Severus needed. The Headmaster had a soft spot for Severus, Phoebe knew he would help him. For that matter, the old wizard was such a kind, gentle man, she knew he would even always help Phoebe, he did not care that she was a Muggle.

She looked back at Severus' pale face and shook her head. 'What had happened? Why had he come here for help? Who had attacked Severus and why hadn't Dumbledore helped? And… where on earth was the house-elf?' Phoebe gently peeled back the blankets from his shoulder to look at the new scars. They were red raw, four of them in a row, with the two in the middle the longest and had been the deepest. Strangely, it appeared that Severus had been torn at by... _claws_, but that couldn't have been possible, they would need to have been absolutely massive, claws bigger than her own hand. No creature that Phoebe knew of possessed talons such as this. 'It must have been some sort of magic, or some brutal weapon or something,' she decided.

'What the hell was keeping that bloody house-elf?!'

Phoebe leaned down to stroke Severus' hair, he had been in such pain, it had been distressing to see. It was a comfort to see his face quite relaxed now.

The loud pop of Erlin returning startled Phoebe and the man on the floor stirred, but he remained asleep.

"I have got them, Mistress," Erlin announced, handing the bottle and small tin container to Phoebe.

Phoebe blew out a long breath with relief. She no longer cared why the house-elf had taken so long, her focus now was on helping heal the man, to get him out of danger. She leaned forward and spoke his name, trying to rouse the man gently.

"Severus…"

"Severus." she said again, a little louder, "Erlin is back."

The man still did not wake, "Severus…" Phoebe became anxious at the man's lack of response. "Severus," she said, much louder whist gently shaking his uninjured shoulder, then almost panicky, "Severus! Come on... please! Severus!"

Finally the man stirred again and opened his eyes, "Oh, thank god," she whispered.

"What…?" he practically snapped.

"Erlin is back, Severus," she said to him, "he has got what you asked for."

He nodded his understanding and then he tried to sit up, but he was too weak, falling back to the cushion. Phoebe leaned forward and wrapping his arm around her shoulders, she heaved him up into a sitting position, just managing it with his help. Supporting him continually, she handed him the bottle Erlin had brought and he popped the cork with his teeth and took a large swig from it. Twice more he drank from the bottle, until he had consumed about one third of it's contents. He handed it back to her and she stoppered it tightly.

"And this?" Phoebe asked of him, holding out the tin container.

"It is… a salve," he explained, "to help... heal and diminish the... scarring."

He took the container but had trouble opening it as his shoulder was obviously still painful. Phoebe took it from him and prised off the lid. Severus reached in and took an amount with his fingers and tried to apply it to the crimson scars, but found it difficult to reach properly whilst Phoebe were supporting him.

"Stop," Phoebe commanded him, "here... lie down, I'll do it for you," she offered and she helped him lower himself back down to the cushion.

Phoebe dipped her own fingers into the green, lumpy mixture and smoothed it over the man's scars.

"How much do I use?" she asked.

"Use about... half of what… is there," Severus replied, still quite breathless, "they will need... another application." He flinched when Phoebe accidentally pressed too hard.

"Sorry," she said to him, "are you okay?"

He nodded, "It is still... extremely painful, that is all," he explained, "I expect it will... heal soon enough.'

"How long will these take to work?" Phoebe asked, indicating to both remedies, as she finished smoothing the last required amount of the paste-like ointment onto his closed wounds.

"This should take... two days," Severus said, meaning the salve Phoebe had just applied, "I will use more tomorrow."

"And this one?" she asked, holding up the bottle.

"It works quite quickly, I am feeling a little... better already. After an hour... I will take more and then… another dose two hours after that," he said, "I should be... fine by the morning."

It was true, Phoebe thought, Severus did seem the tiniest bit less pale than he had before Erlin had returned and he definitely seemed to be talking a little easier.

"How do you know so much about these?" Phoebe asked, looking at the potions curiously, thinking of the morning sickness cure the man had made for her.

"I was Potions Master at Hogwarts for fifteen years," he replied, "that subject.. is where my.. expertise lies."

"Potions? Why have you been teaching Defence magic, then?" she asked, surprised.

Severus paused before answering, "It was… part of his... plan." Severus suddenly took a shuddering breath, and he wore a strange expression on his face. Phoebe likened it to _pain_, not the physical pain he had suffered as a result of his injury, but... more like a deep emotional pain. She placed her hand on his arm and his eyes darting to hers briefly before turning his head away.

"Severus?" Phoebe queried, concerned, "Are you alright?"

When the man faced her again, nodding, the strange expression gone, replaced by one Phoebe could not read. He was hiding it, she knew, so she maintained her hand on his arm comfortingly.

"You need to get some rest," she offered.

"You go... back to bed," he said, "I will be alright here."

"Not without you," Phoebe insisted, shaking her head. "Besides, we are both covered in blood, I will shower in the morning but until then I'm staying right here with you, you need my warmth." Phoebe slid beneath the blankets covering Severus after taking a second cushion for herself from the couch.

"Will you require my services any longer, Master? Mistress?" inquired Erlin.

"No, Erlin… thankyou. I am so grateful to you tonight, you did well… thankyou!' Phoebe said appreciatively to the house-elf as she shuffled herself closer to Severus.

"Goodnight, Master, Mistress." With a nod the house-elf left the room, extinguishing the lights as he went.

"You are warm," Severus remarked, quietly.

"Yes... and you are still cold, let me hold you... I can warm you up," Phoebe whispered back.

Phoebe put her arm over the man, pushing her body as close as she could to his, resting her hand on his partly bare chest. The faint beating of his heart beneath her hand was vaguely comforting. She had nearly lost him tonight but accepting that he was now going to be alright, she felt herself becoming very tired. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to drift off to sleep listening to Severus' soft breathing.

It must have been an hour later when she woke, feeling the man move beside her. He raised himself up on one elbow and drank another dose of the potion from the bottle.

"Do you need help?" she asked him, half asleep.

"No," he assured, quietly, "Go back to sleep."

Phoebe vaguely noticed that Severus' body felt warm against her own and feeling satisfied she relaxed again, allowing herself to fall asleep once more.

When Phoebe woke the next time she found that Severus was not lying next to her. A little anxiously she called out to him, "Severus!?"

"I am here," came a soothing response, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She felt stiff from lying on the hard floor and moaned a little as she rolled onto her back.

"Take this," she heard Severus' voice speak again, and then he was beside her offering her the spoon filled with the anti-nausea potion.

She raised her head slightly to swallow the liquid, again screwing her face up at its foul taste. She went to sit up, but the man rested his hand upon her shoulder.

"Not yet… wait," he commanded, his deep voice soft, then after the minute had expired he gingerly helped her to her feet.

Phoebe observed the man as he helped her. "You look a bit better," she said, "I take it you feel better too."

"Yes, much," he responded.

"How is your shoulder?" Phoebe asked, not quite believing that he was as well as the man would like her to believe. She had noticed that he had assisted her with his uninjured right arm only and even then he still struggled some.

He huffed quietly, "Still a little sore," he admitted.

"Let me see," Phoebe said, then she stopped only just now noticing his attire, "you're wearing my dressing gown!" she said, frowning.

"I was cold when I got up," Severus answered defensively.

She nodded in amusement, but conceded he didn't have any options, his own clothes still lay ruined in a pile beside them.

Phoebe opened the gown and pulled back the collar to see the man's recent scars. They were still visible beneath the salve Phoebe had applied, but seemed somewhat less severe. "Will the scars go completely?" Phoebe asked him.

"I do not know… possibly. I will have to wait and see," he explained.

"Well at least you feel warm now," she said, running her hands over his chest and up his neck. He allowed her to pull his head down to kiss him. "You scared me last night."

Straightening, the man just looked at her with his blank, unreadable expression.

"Well, are you going to tell me what happened?" Phoebe asked.

Severus removed her hands from around his neck, turning his body away from her.

"You do not want to know," he insisted, shaking his head.

"Severus…" Phoebe said, turning him back toward her, "you can't protect me like this. You need to tell me."

The man seemed very reluctant to talk, so Phoebe coaxed him some more, taking him by his arm.

"Was it Narcissa? Was it my fault?" she asked, trying to get a reaction, but suddenly horrified she realised her stupidity of the previous day may indeed have been the cause of the attack on him.

"No... no it was not your fault. It was not Narcissa," he responded, rubbing his forehead with his hand.

"Well, who then?" Phoebe insisted, feeling relieved she wasn't responsible, but still concerned by his reaction.

"I do not want you involved… it is far from pleasant."

"Bugger _pleasant_, do you think I enjoyed myself last night?! The least you could do is tell me _how_ and _why _it was that you ended up very nearly bleeding to death in front of me!"

Severus looked somewhat abashed, "I should not have come here-"

"Why not? For that matter, why did you? Couldn't some other wizard at the school have helped heal you… what is this all about? You have to tell me, Severus!"

"There was no-one else. I doubt I would have lived through the night," he said, and Phoebe had a queer feeling he wasn't talking about his injury. "I heard you last night, I heard you say you loved me."

Phoebe blushed, she remembered she had said that in desperation, but she looked at him and nodded. It had taken desperate circumstances to voice it, however she knew she had been feeling this way about him for a while.

"Yes... I did," she said, "I do."

"Nobody has ever said that to me before," he admitted, and Phoebe wondered where he was going with this. "Your sentiment will be tested when I tell you what transpired," he continued, "you will cast judgement as everyone else has always done."

Phoebe paused before responding. 'What on earth could have happened to make him say that?' "Tell me… I need to know," she insisted bluntly, hoping she would not regret pushing him.

He swallowed visibly, "The Headmaster is dead!" Severus said abruptly. "The vow is fulfilled."

"What?!" Phoebe muttered in shock, "He... he's dead?" Phoebe's chest and throat suddenly constricted. She found it difficult to breathe. "No… what happened?" Then she recalled Severus also mentioning a vow. "Vow… what vow? What are you talking about?" she demanded.

Severus answered quietly, "I made an Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa, to protect Draco and fulfil the task given to him by the Dark Lord if he were unable to do so."

"You made a vow with... Narcissa? But Severus, I thought she was the enemy… why?" she asked, astonished.

"I had no choice... I had to maintain their trust. It was many months ago," he explained.

"But… what were you supposed to do, what was Draco's task?" she asked, a very bad feeling creeping through her.

Severus looked as though he did not want to answer her, bowing his head.

"Severus!?" Phoebe pressed.

His eyes snapped up to hers. "To… murder the Headmaster," he responded, reluctantly.

Phoebe looked at him with incredulous disbelief, then instantly more waves of shock crashed over her. '_The Headmaster is dead… the vow is fulfilled._' Phoebe gasped and backed away from the man she had said she loved. "Severus… tell me Draco did it," she begged, "tell me it was Draco!"

Severus kept his gaze levelled at hers. "No," he replied plainly… but it was enough.

"No… NO!" Phoebe yelled, "Oh, Severus… why? Why would you do this? Why didn't you warn him?" she sobbed.

"He knew, Phoebe… he knew. I did tell him," Severus said, taking a step toward Phoebe.

"No… stay away from me!" she shouted, suddenly fearful of the dark man. "You still did it... you still killed him! Why would you do that?"

"I could not break the Vow... it was magical, the consequence is death," he said, seeming to rationalise his behaviour.

"You murdered him... to save your own life?" Phoebe asked him, incredulous again.

"No… that is not the reason. I would have died, I would have died for him! But he asked me to… he _ordered_ me to do it!"

"You can't honestly expect me to believe he ordered you to kill him," she scoffed, fear and distress forcing from her a strange sarcastic humour.

Severus was nodding, "Yes... it is how it happened. I need you to believe me... I need you to trust me."

Phoebe shook her head, trying to clear her mind that was foggy with shock. 'Trust?' Phoebe made a small noise of horrified disbelief, "Dumbledore trusted _you_ and you _murdered_ him! Severus… he told me he trusted you with his life!" she said heartbroken, covering her mouth with her hand and stifling the cries that were trying to escape.

"It was _not_ murder.. I did not _murder_ him! He asked me to follow through so that I could remain as spy. It was part of his plan…"

Phoebe wanted this cruel joke to end, Severus couldn't have murdered Dumbledore! She was pregnant with Severus' child... it just can't be true. Part of Phoebe was repulsed by the man's admission, but another part desperately wanted to fall into his arms and declare that she believed him, that she trusted him - she had always felt safe in his arms.

"Why you? Why you - how could he have expected you to do this?" she asked, struggling to understand how this horrible turn of events had occurred.

Severus looked deep in her eyes. "Because he knew I could," he said sombrely, then he looked away.

It felt like an empty space replaced where her heart had been. "Because you have killed before?" Phoebe asked at almost a whisper.

"Yes."

Phoebe again covered her mouth with her hand, fighting to hold back her threatening tears. The man had a sordid past, she had known that, but she had not expected this. Suddenly another event dawned on her which made her feel ill despite the anti-nausea potion she had consumed. She turned away from him and leaned onto the furniture for support.

"That man in the alley... did you…?" she stammered, unable to voice her suspicion out loud.

"No!" Severus answered, before she finished, "I did _not_ kill him... I scared him, that is all!"

Phoebe closed her eyes in relief, that man had been filth, but Phoebe could not endorse murder. Severus approached her again and this time, for some reason, she allowed him to touch her.

"Please, Phoebe… I need you to believe in me," he appealed.

"He ordered you?" Phoebe questioned, not convinced yet, but needing to confirm his story.

"Yes… I did not want to, I tried to find a way out," he responded desperately, imploring her to understand.

Phoebe thought again of Dumbledore's last conversation with her. _I would trust Severus with my life._ Could he have been trying to give her a clue, prepare her somehow to accept what Severus would have to do - supposedly on his orders? Was it at all possible that Severus was telling the truth?

"How do I know you have not lied to me, Severus?" she asked, fearful and confused.

"I have never lied to you, _never,_ you _know_ this, Phoebe!" he insisted, his tone urging her to believe.

Phoebe thought about his response. It was true, he had not lied to her about anything - not to her knowledge at least. But what he was asking her to believe was so incredible. It was part of a plan, he had said…

This is when it struck her - what if he _was_ telling the truth? What if he was sincere and she refused to believe him? Severus seemed to be practically begging for her acceptance, and she didn't know why he would bother if he was lying. Turning to face him, she looked deep into his dark eyes - was he the man she had thought he was, capable of love, honesty, compassion and honour? Could she trust him?

Phoebe reached her hand and laid it on his chest, as if touching him would give her an answer. She felt his warmth, the rhythmic beating of his heart and the rising and falling of his chest with every breath he took. The look in his eyes was that of a deep grief and undoubtable sincerity and Phoebe found herself unable to deny it. 'Yes, yes I can trust him, I have to trust him,' she thought emotionally and gave in to her longing, falling toward him and letting him comfort her in his embrace as her tears flowed for the loss of a man she had barely met.

"Thank you," he whispered to her, breathing a sigh of relief and holding her tightly. Phoebe could feel that he grieved the same loss, but only through her tears, and she wondered if he had ever allowed himself to cry, if his pain was ever too much to bear.

After several minutes they broke apart, Severus groaning softly at the pain in his shoulder.

"Who did that to you?" Phoebe asked, both out of concern for the man and curiosity - wanting to know the whole story.

"A hippogriff," Severus said, and at Phoebe's questioning look, he explained, "a magical creature; half horse, half eagle."

'Claws!' Phoebe thought astonished, she had been right. "But how… why?" Phoebe said confused, "Couldn't you stop it?"

"I did not see it coming. I was preoccupied… with Potter," Severus disclosed with a disdainful huff, obviously not expecting Phoebe to know the name.

"Potter? You mean Harry Potter; the boy who lived?"

Severus looked a little unnerved. "How do you know of... that boy?" he asked her frowning.

"Professor Dumbledore told me, he said Voldemort attempted to murder him-"

"Do not say the Dark Lord's name, Phoebe!" Severus warned her, strangely fearful. "Yes... the Dark Lord did attempt… many years ago, and he has tried again since."

"What happened to the boy... what happened to Harry last night?" Phoebe asked concerned, assuming Severus must have been trying to protect Harry. "Did the hippogriff attack him too-?"

"No, Potter remains unharmed, the hippogriff was protecting him," Severus explained reassuringly, though with a tinge of contempt.

"Protecting him… from who?" Phoebe asked, confused.

There was a pause before Severus answered, "From me," he said, sighing. It was obvious the man hadn't expected (or was hoping not) to get into this just now.

"From you?" Phoebe repeated, "Why?"

Severus sat down on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands, "Must we do this now?" he asked, looking worn out.

Phoebe paused, "Yes, we must," she responded almost haughtily, feeling uneasy about his rendition of the events of the previous night.

Severus sighed again, but continued nevertheless, "I struck him… I was angry. I am not proud of it. I lost control."

Phoebe kneeled in front of Severus. "Why did you strike him, Severus? What did he do?" she asked, determined to get answers she was satisfied with.

"He was calling me a… a coward. I know it sounds childish now, but all I could think of was you... and the baby... of what I was risking. And I had just… _killed_," Severus stopped talking, closing his eyes, anguished emotions moulding his expressions.

Phoebe took one of his hands in her own, offering soothing support - she was not finished with her questions. "Why was he calling you a coward?" she pressed. She had to admit to some curiosity as well, Phoebe had always thought of Severus as far from a coward.

"Because he thinks I had a hand in the death of his parents," Severus responded, opening his eyes, accepting her supportive hand, but not able to look directly at her.

Phoebe ceased breathing momentarily, "And did you?"

"In a way... yes."

Sighing dejectedly, Phoebe hung her head. "In a way?" she whispered, hoping that his answer would not disappoint her further.

Severus now looked up at Phoebe and she met his gaze, "I did not murder them... it was not me!" he implored, shaking his head. "It is a long and... complicated story." He sighed heavily and placed his face in his hands, looking exhausted.

Satisfied for the moment, and seeing that Severus needed a break from his intense explanation, she smoothed a hand over his hair and stood up.

"You can tell me, but only after we have both eaten. I am hungry and quite frankly, I am sick of having your blood smeared all over me!" she said, indicating to her pyjamas that still showed, in abundance, the evidence of Severus' crisis of the night before. "And you don't look any better," she added, her eyes sweeping over him and seeing the copious amounts of dried blood staining his skin also. "Let's get cleaned up," she said, taking Severus by the hand, pulling him to his feet and leading him down the hall into the bathroom.


	15. Chapter 15  Retrieval

So many readers - so few reviews... :( If there is something not quite right, please let me know. If there is something you like, please let me know. Reviews are the joy of my day! A heartfelt thanks to the already loyal reviewers... the most regular being pstibbons... thankyou so much, I value your opinion!

As usual - JK Rowling own the Harry Potter universe, not me. Severus' wand was dropped in the ruckas with the hippogriff, he is virtually defenceless without it, what will he do?

**Chapter 15**_ - Retrieval_

As Phoebe sat finishing her breakfast across from the man at the table, she tried to process all she had learnt about his past. It worried her that he had been involved in such horrific acts as murder. Yet she found herself still accepting of him, still attracted to him. He had charisma and passion, he was intelligent, driven and confident and an alluring sense of mystery surrounded him, but was it just these attributes that had allowed her to overlook the _mistakes_ of his past? Surely she wouldn't be so shallow - the man has _killed_! The mere fact that he was capable of murder should be enough to send her packing.

Then again, he had not wanted to kill Dumbledore, he had told her so. Severus had been forced to do it against his wishes, forced to turn back to a life he had, many years ago, tried to leave behind.

Phoebe shook her head and concentrated on her food. Was she trying to justify his behaviour? Or her own, for that matter? She was pregnant with his child, and the likelihood that he may be a murdering monster horrified her, so she wondered whether she was making excuses for him. She would need to hear more of his story and understand his motives - only then would she know what kind of person he truly was.

Opposite her, the man stood up having finished his meal.

"I need to retrieve my wand," Severus stated, walking to the window, pulling back the curtain and searching the lane way.

"Where did you drop it?" Phoebe asked him.

"In the grounds of Hogwarts, not too far from the boundary gates," he explained.

Worried, Phoebe stood up and walked half the distance to him, "You're not thinking of going back this morning, are you? I mean, they will be hunting for you, won't they?" she questioned him, using the term _they_ in a general sense.

He turned to look at her, nodding, "Without a doubt, but I must recover my wand before it is found by anyone else," he answered, "if it has not been... already,' he muttered quietly, turning back to the window. "I need to repair my clothes," he added, "and… I just need it."

"Just have Erlin make some new clothes," Phoebe suggested, nonchalant.

Severus drew the curtain shut, turned and closed the rest of the distance between himself and Phoebe.

"Erlin cannot produce something from nothing... his magic does not extend that far," Severus explained.

"But he made me the robes…" Phoebe began, though blushing slightly as she remembered the fiasco of the previous day.

"No, he stole them or borrowed them; from Hogwarts. He has only the ability to summon articles from the castle, that is all," clarified Severus.

"Can't he get you some from your quarters, then?" Phoebe asked.

"He could, however I suspect Minerva will have already had my living quarters and office sealed… so it may be searched. Nobody knew of the plan but myself and the Headmaster," he explained, "and I cannot risk Erlin becoming involved," he mused. "Besides, I still need my wand."

"Well... you can't go out like that, Severus," she said to him, "you're wearing my dressing gown..." Again, it had been the only article of clothing Severus could find to wear after the shower that wasn't soaked in blood. "And it's _pink_ for goodness sake!" she added, trying to deter him.

"I have no choice!" he answered, bluntly.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," she snapped at him, "I can do it... I'll go," she said, "I can wear the robes Erlin got for me," she suggested before he had a chance to argue about her own distinctly Muggle attire.

Phoebe did not want the man to risk being discovered, he was still weak. Severus had confessed to Phoebe that he was still feeling a little light-headed after he had reflexively clutched at her to prevent himself from collapsing in the hot shower. Also, as much as he was trying to conceal it, she knew he continued to be in a fair amount of pain from the injury to his shoulder.

"No!" he stated, absolutely. "You will not leave the safe-house."

"Severus, you're being absurd! They are looking for you, not for me, I will be at much less risk than you would," Phoebe asserted, and she could see that Severus was considering what she had said.

"You should not leave the safe-house," he replied, with much less determination than before.

"Severus, look…" began Phoebe, "you have been injured, you are still recovering…"

"I have healed-" the man started to say, but Phoebe cut him off.

"I understand that you say you are much better…" Phoebe stepped up close to him, "but I know you are still in pain," she said, as she squeezed her hand firmly on his injured shoulder - _deliberately_!

The man flinched and exclaimed loudly at her ruthless touch. Pushing her bodily away from himself quite roughly. He glared unpleasantly at her, though Phoebe was not perturbed.

"See, you cannot hide it from me," she said, glaring back at him, "and you know you already told me you still feel a bit light-headed."

"I am healed enough for-" he began again.

"Do you think I'm going to let you go out there at half strength?!" she demanded, pointing in the direction of Hogwarts, "when they are all looking for you… looking for a... a _murderer_!" she said, being sure to emphasise how others would perceive him. Severus winced at the accusation. "You will be a sitting duck Severus, particularly dressed in that," she insisted, gesturing to his clothing, "and especially without your wand!" she finished with determination.

He turned away from her snorting a sigh, and Phoebe smirked at her apparent victory. He was rubbing his hand over his forehead, weighing his now limited options.

"I cannot wait," he said, "it must be retrieved now... as soon as possible."

"Then, I will go," Phoebe said, turning and making her way to the bedroom.

Severus followed her, he seemed unsure. "But… you should not be seen," he argued.

Phoebe sighed, a little exasperated, "Severus… I will use my judgement, which I realise you think is a little off right now, after yesterday," she stated, "but I can handle this." Phoebe began rummaging in the back of the wardrobe for the burgundy robes. As her fingers felt them she grabbed the bundle, dragged it out and stood to face the man. "Trust me," she said, looking into his eyes.

Phoebe began removing her Muggle clothes in front of him, pulling on the burgundy robes. She heard him gasp as she straightened and smoothed the garment over her curves. She glanced at him; his mouth was hanging open, but when he noticed her look he promptly snapped it shut.

"They... do look good on you," he admitted, casually.

She smirked at him and turned to leave the room, "I'll need you to tell me where to look," she said.

Then suddenly, almost violently, he pushed her up against the wall, wiping the smile instantly from her face. The look in his eyes was haunting… deadly serious. "If you insist on doing this… you must not be caught!" he hissed, nearly crushing her with the weight of his body forcing her against the wall, "the stakes are high... any errors will be costly."

After a few moments of staring into his dark eyes, she closed hers, turning her head away from him and she began to tremble slightly. Seconds later she felt the man release her. Blinking away the stinging threat of tears, she acknowledged her understanding of his warning with a nod. He was powerfully intimidating, and given her new knowledge of him, decidedly dangerous. Phoebe pushed him away from her further so she could move past him to leave the room - she had no desire to remain so close to him whilst he were like this.

"So… where exactly should I find your wand, then?" she asked him tensely, as she heard him following her closely back into the sitting room.

Severus, using a number of articles lying on the coffee table, quickly described the approximate location he had been within the grounds of Hogwarts when he had been injured and had dropped his wand. Phoebe discovered she would not need to approach too near the castle, as it had been relatively close to the boundary. After again nodding her comprehension to Severus, she went to walk toward the front door when he abruptly seized her arm. Startled, she whipped around to face him gasping fearfully, but he quickly let her go. He brusquely brushed past her instead and she was slightly bewildered at his cold demeanour.

Severus opened the front door and surveyed the lane way, then allowed Phoebe to pass by him out the door. As he closed it behind her, Phoebe once again felt the sensation of being vulnerable, though this time she did not dismiss it as paranoia, but used it, allowing it to sharpen her awareness of her surroundings. Simply put, the woman learned from her mistakes.

Phoebe began her short trek to Hogwarts, pulling the hood of her robes over her head. Severus' behaviour in the bedroom had startled her and she was still trembling. He had not been the man she loved for those several moments, he was the spy - the man capable of murder. Phoebe now recognised his behaviour as his defence mechanism. She was coming to the understanding that it was the only way he could allow Phoebe to leave the cottage's protection - his protection - by removing the emotion from the job that needed to be done, as she also realised, he must have done when he had murdered for the Dark Lord in the past, and again recently… for Dumbledore.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, as she approached the iron gates of Hogwarts, Phoebe noticed that the grounds were not deserted as she had expected them to be. A number of Witches and Wizards were walking around the castle, some with an urgency heading toward the iron gates, accompanying their children and Disapparating beyond the boundary. Others more calmly strolling in the grounds, though never letting their family member out of their sight. Groups of students were seated on the grass talking, looking up when they were passed near by others.

Phoebe swallowed, how was she going to manage to find Severus's wand without rousing suspicion and being questioned about what she was doing here? She could pretend to be a relative, she supposed, but would they know she was being untruthful? She halted and moved to hide herself behind one of the large pillars which anchored one of the double gates. Her heart was pounding, so she took a few deep breaths trying to calm herself. Thinking of Severus telling her how she had courage, Phoebe stepped out from behind the pillar. She could do this, she would succeed… for him.

Surveying the grounds as she passed through the gates, Phoebe pinpointed the place Severus had indicated she would be likely to find his wand. She headed directly for the position, scanning the manicured grass for the smooth _stick_, though walking quickly. As she neared the spot, Phoebe began to see evidence of the scuffle of the previous evening; deep gouges scarred the usual flat ground. That's when Phoebe saw the few splatters of blood. She drew in a sharp breath, it was Severus' blood, she was sure… it had to be. Biting her lip she bent down to touch the dried brownish red patches; the hippogriff attack had happened here. Somewhere just here she should find his wand.

Suddenly a deep voice boomed out at her, from quite close…

"What ar ye lookin for, there?"

Phoebe looked up toward the voice and was startled when she saw the sheer size of the person who had spoken. He was huge, he looked too big to be possible, almost the size of a giant. Phoebe's mind froze at this thought… she had seen so many incredible things since meeting Severus… did _giants_ really exist in his world too?

Phoebe stood immediately and began to back away from the imposing man, fear beginning to cloud her ability to think.

"Sorry ta startle ye... I meant no 'arm," the giant of a man spoke again, looking curiously at Phoebe.

Phoebe shook her head slightly to kick her brain into working once more, "Oh, no… uh... I just was looking-" Phoebe started to say.

"What's tha' ye've found, eh?" the giant said, looking toward the drops of blood that Phoebe had just been examining.

"Oh… it... it's nothing-" Phoebe stammered.

"Why... tha's blood, tha' is," he announced, "I wonder who's tha' would be?"

Suddenly the giant man started to blubber like a child, startling Phoebe.

"I 'ope it's ruddy Snape's," he sobbed, pulling a monstrous handkerchief from within his inner coat pockets, blowing his nose loudly on it. "It's more 'an he deserves, to 'ave 'is blood spilt… I'll rip 'is 'ead off if I get me way," he said, alarmingly.

"Oh... yes..." Phoebe responded, trying to think of a way out of this predicament.

"I'm sorry... I'm a bit emotional about it all still," the giant apologised.

"No... it's okay, you've every reason," Phoebe answered.

"What's tha' accent ye've got there?" he asked her with a small frown.

"Oh, Australian," Phoebe answered quickly.

"Osstrayin eh? I wasn' aware we 'ad any Osstrayin students presently," the huge man commented.

"Oh, no you don't… I'm actually just the Aunt… in-law... from Australia," she blurted smiling, fabricating her response as she was saying it, trying desperately not to dig too big a hole for herself.

"Oh… well uh…" he began awkwardly.

"Actually… uh, I've... um... dropped my wand... you see, that's what I was looking for when I found the blood," Phoebe said thinking quickly, pointing to the blood stains on the ground.

"Oh... well, I guess I could give ye a 'and then eh?" he offered.

"No... it's okay, it's fine… I'll be able to find it," she assured him, "it won't be too far away," she continued, turning on the spot searching in earnest for the article.

"Would this be it?" the man asked, stepping toward what Phoebe recognised as definitely being Severus' wand lying in the grass several feet away. She quickly tried to get to it first but the man was so tall that he was upon it within two strides. He picked it up and twirled it in his fingers.

"I guess ye wouldn've met the Headmaster then eh?" the giant asked Phoebe.

"Actually, yes I did." Phoebe answered, before she could stop herself.

"Great man, Dumbledore... great man, as ye'd know then… and tha' ruddy bastard Snape…" he said, then he broke down again, huge tears sliding down the tower of a man's cheeks.

Phoebe took a deep breath, she needed to get the wand from the man, yet he was still fiddling with it, seeming not to notice that he had someone else's property in his hands. Phoebe approached him cautiously, though he really did not appear any threat to her, and tapped him consolingly on the arm.

"It is a tragedy…" she said, in her most heartfelt voice, trying not to think of the Headmaster lest she break down in tears along with the large man. _Severus_… she had to think of Severus .. and getting his wand back.

"Actually... it was lovely to meet you … ah…" she stammered, not knowing the giant man's name.

"Hagrid… Rubeus Hagrid," the man sobbed to her.

"Mr Hagrid... it was nice to meet you, although I wish it were under more... pleasant circumstances, but I really do have to go. I said I would meet my sister-in-law back in Hogsmeade when I found my wand... and she is… well, waiting."

"Oh righ'... ah… Miss…" a compelling silence ensued.

"Oh... Hanse- Hansoon," Phoebe answered, almost kicking herself for not being able to be more inventive when it counted.

"Right, Miss Hansoon. Well, ye bes' be off I spose. Good day, then," he said, sniffing.

The giant turned to leave, and Phoebe almost panicked, he still had Severus' wand in his hands.

"Mr Hagrid!" she called out, and he turned back to her. "Ah... um... my wand."

"Oh, righ'… sorry. Here ya are, then," he answered, holding out the thin, polished piece of wood for Phoebe.

It was all she could do to stop herself from snatching it from the giant, but she managed to take it without raising suspicion from him. Thanking him and calling a farewell, Phoebe began to walk quickly toward the boundary, clutching the wand in her hand tightly. She had found it… she breathed a sigh of relief, but she still needed to get back to the safe-house. She turned to see if Hagrid was watching her and she saw that he was, so she gave him a small wave, which he returned, then she continued to walk purposefully through the gates and down the lane toward Hogsmeade. She did not stop even after she had rounded the first corner out of sight of the castle. She would not feel safe until she was back with Severus.

As she walked, she absently stroked her fingers along the smooth timber of the wand. This was the first time she had held the man's wand. She almost felt it had a power of its own, a tiny almost unnoticeable buzz was reverberating through it. Phoebe thought about the wand and Severus, 'It is the tool of his trade," she thought amused. He could accomplish almost anything with it, yet he was relegated to almost Muggle status without it. This thought caused Phoebe to contemplate just what Hagrid would have done to an unarmed, weakened Severus if he had insisted on attempting to retrieve the wand himself today. Phoebe doubted, by Hagrid's reaction to the splatters of blood on the ground, that he would have given Severus any time to explain why he had to kill the Headmaster…

Abruptly, Phoebe had an horrific thought, causing her to shudder. Not only was the wand Severus' tool, but it was also his… _weapon_. He had killed with this wand… he had killed the Headmaster with this wand! Suddenly Phoebe couldn't wait to get rid of it, to give it back to him… to never touch it again.

Number seventy-seven soon came into view, and as she approached the door, Severus opened it for her. She took his outstretched hand and he pulled her quickly, but gently inside.


	16. Chapter 16  History

Please review - I'm starving in the feedback form... :(

HP belongs to JK! Phoebe learns about Severus' past - and their first real tiff...

**Chapter 16**_ - History_

As Severus closed the door behind Phoebe, she held out his wand for him and breathed a loud sigh of relief when he finally took it from her. He was watching her curiously as he did so, moving up close to her, reaching his hand up to smooth her ruffled hair as she pushed back the robe hood.

"Are you... alright?" he asked, with some concern.

Phoebe could only nod but her lower lip trembled dangerously, she allowed the man to pull her into an embrace, his arms comforting around her.

"Did you have any trouble?" Severus queried her.

Phoebe took in a deep breath, "No, no trouble," she answered, "But..."

"But... what?" Severus pressed.

"Well... it's just that you could have warned me… about the giant," she remarked.

"Giant? You saw Hagrid? What happened?" he questioned, frowning.

"Yes, I spoke with him. He scared me almost out of my wits at first," Phoebe could see Severus was becoming quite anxious, "but, don't worry, he was actually quite nice in the end. He discovered me looking around on the ground, so I told him I'd dropped my wand and he offered to help look for it. He was... very upset about the Headmaster's death, he was practically crying the whole time, the poor thing," Phoebe explained, sympathetically.

"What does he know?"

Phoebe put a hand up to soothe him, "Don't worry, he has no idea who I am." Then Phoebe snorted a small laugh, "Oh, and by the way, he intends to rip _you_ limb from limb if he ever gets his hands on you."

Severus narrowed his eyes at her, "I am glad you find this... amusing," he said with bitter sarcasm, then he continued in a matter of fact tone, "Nevertheless, I have no fear of Hagrid. The man is half giant - half wizard by the way and as tough as he may be, having giant blood run through his veins, his wizard talent was stunted when he failed to complete his magical education."

"No fear of Hagrid?" Phoebe asked, incredulous, "Unless, of course, you had encountered him today… weakened, injured.. and wandless," Phoebe then threw at him, sadistically.

Severus just glared at her, then looked away, snorting in disgust at how easily Phoebe had disqualified his announcement of supremacy.

"And by the way, how is your shoulder feeling?" Phoebe asked, reaching her hand toward him.

Swiping her arm away and stepping back out of her reach, he snarled his answer at her, "Yes... it is still painful!"

Phoebe did not bother to suppress the grin spreading across her face, so glaring at Phoebe again, Severus turned on the spot and bent to pick up his blood stained, torn clothing, which were still bunched in a pile on the rug of the sitting room where they had been discarded the previous night. He took them to the table and spread them out. Phoebe noticed the colour drain from the man's face marginally as he surveyed the damage, tracing his fingers over the large tears in the fabric.

Phoebe approached him, laying her hand on his back in a comforting way. "You lost a lot of blood, last night, Severus," she said, "it may take you longer to heal than you anticipated." Her voice was no longer mocking and he must have recognised this, as he did not snap back at her with a sarcastic retort, but only sombrely nodded in agreement.

"Why don't you just have Erlin clean and repair them?" Phoebe suggested gently.

"No… I will do it," he responded quietly, a frown fixed on his forehead, then he raised his wand and resolutely spoke, "Reparo!" Phoebe witnessed the tears of the material reunite themselves before her eyes, one by one, as Severus repeated the incantation for each fissure. "Tergeo," he muttered immediately afterwards, and the blood that soaked the garments siphoned from the black material of his cloak and coat, and then from the white linen of his shirt. Severus then directed the wand at his trousers, which Phoebe now noticed Severus had again adorned, beneath the pink dressing gown, in her absence. The patches of dried blood which stained this fabric were also removed, thoroughly and efficiently.

"Good as new," Phoebe uttered softly, maintaining the hand on his back.

The man removed Phoebe's dressing gown and she took it from him, then watched as he began to re-dress himself in his own newly repaired clothes. As he pulled the white shirt over his injured shoulder, he hesitated, he must have remembered that the Dittany salve had been washed off during his shower. "I need to reapply the salve, and you may be right, I will probably need more than two applications for it to heal completely, " he said, examining his scars as best he could. 'I might have to brew more.'

"You don't sound very sure, Severus."

"I am not a healer... I know the potions, I can brew most without a recipe, but as for their practical application, with that I am little more than a novice," Severus explained, wincing as he tested one of his still inflamed scars.

"Here, let me see," Phoebe suggested.

Severus turned his left shoulder toward her, allowing her to see more easily. "They look a little less severe, it seems to be working, Severus… but slowly," she said looking up at his face.

"Hmm," he grunted, in reply.

Chucking the dressing gown down onto the couch, Phoebe went to fetch the salve tin from the coffee table, opening it as she walked back to Severus. He had removed his shirt completely once again, so Phoebe could reapply the salve. As she approached him, she noticed that his tattoo was once again faded. It was not as faint as it had been when she had first seen it, but certainly not the dark obvious black of the previous night.

"What does this tattoo mean?" she asked him, grabbing his hand and turning the tattooed forearm towards her.

"Nothing!" he snapped, as he savagely snatched his arm from her grasp, covering the image with his other hand. Without another word, he seized the tin container roughly from her, then moving to the other side of the table he began to apply the salve himself, ignoring Phoebe completely.

Feeling hurt and a little shocked, Phoebe backed away from him, mumbling that she needed to go to the toilet. Once she had shut the bathroom door, she locked it and sat herself on the floor in the corner, drawing her knees up tight.

She had suddenly needed to get away from the man and as she rested her forehead on her knees, she felt hot tears well and spill from her eyes. Why was she here? She could not understand his behaviour sometimes. He could be so loving one moment and so cold toward her the next. Phoebe sat there for a few minutes and although she knew he'd start to wonder what was keeping her, she had no desire to return to the sitting room just yet. He had clearly not wanted her there anyway, so sniffing, she just sat in the bathroom corner some more.

After several more minutes she conceded she could not hide out in the bathroom all day, so stood and unlocked the door, but instead of turning left to the sitting room, she turned right and made her way down the hall to her bedroom. Noticing herself in her dresser mirror, she realised she was still wearing the burgundy robes. She frowned, suddenly thinking they did not suit her at all. Pulling ferociously at the robes she yanked them off over her head, throwing them unceremoniously to the floor. She stood looking at them for a couple of moments, then turned her head, startled, when she heard the man breath a sigh at the door.

Severus was standing in the doorway, now fully dressed in his black wizard clothes… oddly looking ashamed. "And so he should be too," thought Phoebe, unforgivingly. She hurriedly looked to her bed for her previously discarded Muggle clothes, pulling them on quickly.

"Phoebe..." he began, but Phoebe was in no mood for hearing an apology.

"The times when I allowed you to have secrets from me are over, Severus. I cannot live like this, I cannot be treated like this… I will NOT be treated like this!" she spat out angrily. "I have to go."

Shocked, Severus just gaped at her while he watched her gather a few personal items from the room.

"I don't want anything to do with any of this," Phoebe continued to rant unreasonably, grabbing several pointless items, then throwing them all back down on the bed. "Shit!" she exclaimed, "I want all of my stuff returned to my house," she demanded, then she pushed past the still stunned Severus, walking back up the hall into the sitting room. The man followed her, still gaping, not knowing how to respond to her outburst.

She walked twice around the couch, looking for something, but not knowing what, as the man watched from the hall entry. Eventually she snatched up the small bottle of anti-nausea potion sitting on the cabinet against the kitchen wall, in which was stored the message sphere, then shoved the bottle into her pocket. She will definitely be taking that with her!

Then looking around once again, she headed to the coat rack and yanked her coat off the hook, wrenched open the door and stomped out to the lane way, pulling it on. In her rage, she started to walk towards Hogsmeade, then after several strides she stopped, turned around and headed in the opposite direction, then stopping again, stamping her foot in frustration.

She turned to Severus who had followed her as she left the cottage and was standing in the doorway, watching her.

"Where in the fucking hell am I!?" she yelled at him.

To Phoebe's extreme irritation, Severus smiled and strode toward her, taking her by the hand. She tried to pull out of his grasp but he held her firmly, leading her back through the cottage door.

"Do not fight me Phoebe, you will not win," he said, brazenly.

Incensed, Phoebe began to struggle more ferociously, causing him to hold her close to his body to prevent her escaping from his guiding restraint.

He flicked the door shut behind them with his foot after he dragged her through it, then he released her, drawing his wand, aiming it at… the door and muttering an incantation that resulted in a loud click, signalling that the door had been locked by magic.

Phoebe ran to the door to test it, not really surprised to find that she could not open it at all, but she kicked at it nonetheless.

"Phoebe, please…" Severus began, supporting his injured shoulder with his wand hand. It had obviously hurt him to continue to restrain her as she was thrashing about trying to free herself. Seeing the pain on his face calmed her somewhat.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked him.

Surprised by her concern, he responded, "I am amazed that you care."

"Well of course I care!" she retorted, irritated by his response.

He eyed her a moment, "I am alright," he said quietly, though he did not release his shoulder from his supporting grasp.

"Did you get the ointment on your shoulder okay?"

"Yes," he said, nodding, "I have covered it with a dressing to help prevent the salve from rubbing off," he added, "I am hoping this will help it heal faster."

Feeling guilty and wanting to apologise for her childish display, Phoebe approached the man, "Severus-" but he cut across her.

"The image on my arm is not a tattoo, it is one of the greatest mistakes of my life. It is the Dark Mark!" Severus confessed.

"The Dark Mark?" Phoebe asked, not understanding.

"The Dark Lord's mark, branded on all of his loyal followers", Severus explained.

Phoebe frowned at him, confused, "You allowed yourself to be branded… by him?"

Severus turned away from her, "It was many years ago. I can barely justify my decision to myself any more."

A few moments later, Phoebe asked, "Why did it go dark... black… the mark?"

There were Death Eaters..." at the phrase Phoebe looked puzzled again, so he explained, "that is what his followers, his closest supporters are known as, Death Eaters. The Mark is a means by which the Dark Lord may contact his followers. It burns black when he summons us. Death Eaters were at the school last night, I was required to pass through a curse which also activated the Dark Mark."

Phoebe was a little shocked, "You are a... Death Eater?"

"I was… I no longer consider myself as such, although I still bear the mark."

"Severus… this just keeps getting worse and worse. Who are you?" Phoebe had said it before she had a chance to think… and she regretted it the moment the comment had left her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she said, wincing at her own insensitivity.

Severus did not respond, only swallowing and looking away.

Phoebe moved close and put her arms around him, "I did not mean that the way it sounded, Severus."

"How else could you have meant it," he responded, disheartened.

Shaking her head, Phoebe said, "No, Severus… I know you are a good man. I worked that much out myself. Your decisions of the past have no bearing on what you are now."

This time it was Severus who was shaking his head. "That is where you are wrong," he declared. "My past choices have considerable bearing on who I am now. I made tremendous mistakes... and those mistakes have had severe consequences for many other people. I have changed as a result, I learned the error of placing my faith in a judgement that is born of fear and hate. That judgement was flawed, but I regret I did not see that until I was well entrenched. I have to live with that now.. I have to live with what I have done."

"You are talking about Harry Potter, aren't you?" Phoebe said, picking up the prior conversation.

"Among others... yes," Severus admitted.

"So, what happened with his parents?" she asked, taking his hand and leading him to sit on the couch with her.

Severus sighed quietly, "I knew them, I went to Hogwarts with them. I was never friendly with James Potter and his group of friends, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. You could even say we were enemies, but as children that is not a deadly association. Incidents escalated as we became older, though they were mostly just pranks." Severus ran his hands through his hair, then continued, "Sirius Black once tried to trick me into a werewolf's lair as a teenager, however James saved my life at the last moment. I do not believe he was ever the innocent bystander he claimed to be, but merely suffered... cold feet. Nevertheless, a life debt was created."

Phoebe gasped, reaching her hand out, placing it on his leg. Severus looked down at her hand, then placed his own on top, fiddling gently with her fingers.

"Lily Evans, Harry Potter's mother, was.. not quite a friend but more of an acquaintance," Severus continued, "she was brilliant at potions, we had many interests in common. Although our relationship would never have developed further… opposite ends of the pecking order, you might say. I will always regret how I put an end to any hope of friendship when I insulted her on one occasion. She was... Muggle born."

Phoebe could read between the lines, he did not need to say what had happened specifically to understand that he had insulted Lily for not being a pure-blood witch, an example of Severus' previously held prejudices. 'Extremely ironic,' Phoebe thought, as she herself, an actual Muggle, were now sitting here with the same man many years later expecting his child.

Severus carried on with the story, "Lily and James were married after completing school. And I… was inducted into the Dark Lords ranks," Severus' voice faltered ever so slightly as he recanted his history.

"During my service to the Dark Lord, I happened to overhear a prophecy which referred to him. A prophecy about a child, yet to be born, who would challenge the Dark Lord and was predicted to be the only one who had the ability to destroy him," Severus explained, sombrely. As Phoebe started to shake her head, Severus continued, "I informed the Dark Lord of the prophecy. I found out later that he had chosen to hunt Lily and James Potter, as they were now expecting a child, believing that it was that child the prophecy referred to."

Silence followed for several moments, until Phoebe prompted Severus to finish the account. "What happened?"

"I went to Dumbledore, I had a life debt to fulfil. I was in a unique position to help, to stop the Dark Lord from succeeding. He made me see that I had chosen the wrong side, and that it was not too late for me. I came to trust in him, fully. I believe wholeheartedly that it is due only to him that I still have my life." Severus took a breath and Phoebe saw fleeting evidence of his battle with his emotions cross his features.

"The child was born and the Headmaster arranged for the Potters to go into hiding, on my advice. The Dark Lord then ordered me to take up a post at Hogwarts as a teacher, to spy on Dumbledore. I was to pretend to be remorseful and convince the Headmaster to take me in. Ironically it was what I wanted, to be away from the Dark Lord and all ancillary duties, though it was never a complete estrangement, I was still required to report from time to time. The situation would have been ideal, the spy sent to spy, the Dark Lord was being fooled, however… there was an unexpected element… there was another spy in the Order's ranks."

"The Order?" Phoebe inquired.

"The Order of the Phoenix, the group of Witches and Wizards devoted to the resistance of the Dark Lord and his followers, of which the Potters' were members themselves and Dumbledore in charge," explained the man.

"The Light Side?" suggested Phoebe.

"Yes," Severus confirmed. "I became aware of the existence of the spy, though I was unable to inform the Headmaster of his identity. The spy was... ultimately successful, there was nothing I could do."

Phoebe gasped, "James... and Lily?"

"Murdered… by the Dark Lord… and their child, Harry, barely escaped with his life. So you see, the life debt was never repaid… it has haunted me ever since. I have endeavoured to protect the child when I could, though I fear the debt will never be fulfilled in essence."

"Did Harry know, does he know you tried to save his family?" Phoebe asked.

"No, he will never know," he answered.

"Why not?" she said, curious.

Severus answered quite harshly, "Because I will never bow down to James Potter's son and beg for forgiveness."

Phoebe was a little taken aback. She shook her head, "I don't think you will need to beg for his forgiveness, Severus. You tried, that is all he should expect, but you must tell him that you _tried_ to save them. He could not think of you as a coward if he knew that."

"No... besides... it is too late now. The Headmaster is dead, I have already condemned myself," Severus conceded, bitterly.

Resenting the implication that Severus seemed to be giving up, Phoebe stood up and faced him. "No, Severus! I will not let this rest," she demanded, "people will know the truth in the end, you must not sell yourself short. I will let them know the man you truly are."

"No, Phoebe," Severus countered, also standing. "You must not become involved."

"You daft idiot, I'm already involved. Don't you get it, _we _are your family," she said, indicating to the baby within her. "This baby will carry your name... and I will not have that name smeared with untruths. If you wish me to believe that you are all you say you are, then you have to prove it... and not just to me… but to the world."

"How will I prove that… when my actions just confirm my past misdeeds?" he asked, disbelieving.

Phoebe was thoughtful for a moment, "Didn't you say Harry Potter will challenge the Dark Lord?" she queried.

"Yes... but..." he started to respond.

"Well… help him. Help him to win! You are still in that unique position to be able to do it. Use what has happened to your advantage," she encouraged.

Severus looked at her, unsure at first but soon gathering determination. Phoebe saw it in his eyes. "What else has the Headmaster discussed with you?" he said, quite mockingly.

"This is what he wanted, wasn't it, this was the goal of his plan. I see now what he hoped to achieve. You need to trust in his wisdom, Severus, because he has sacrificed himself so that you may succeed!" Phoebe proclaimed.

A fire ignited in the depths of his eyes and Severus suddenly took her fiercely in his arms and kissed her. "I need you, Phoebe," he whispered to her. "You are my strength, my voice of reason, you are... definitely what I need." As he held her to him, she looked up and gazed deep into his dark eyes.

"And I need you... free, Severus," she announced, passionately, "_we_ need you! In fact, _everybody_ in the Wizarding world needs you now. Help Harry... to end this!"


	17. Chapter 17  'Lamnordron'

Severus leaves to complete his _job_, it may prove to be more difficult than he first realises...

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**Chapter 17**_ - "__Lamnordron"_

Phoebe saw the change in Severus as she watched him prepare to leave the cottage. He became quiet and seemed to pull back from her emotionally. The warmth he had shown barely twenty minutes ago had been replaced with cold indifference. He had to face the Dark Lord, explain what had happened at Hogwarts and what had delayed his immediate return to his side. Phoebe knew he had to do it, she knew there was no other way, but that knowledge did not prevent the terror that was currently welling inside her. There was always a risk that Severus may not survive his encounters with the Dark Lord, but she did not press herself on him, knowing that he would need to stay focused to prevent Voldemort discovering the truth about Severus, his true allegiances, or even about Phoebe.

Phoebe also worried that Severus was still not yet at full strength. He had assured her that he would manage, that his scars would provide evidence of his excuse why he could not return directly to the Dark Lord's side.

"_I will not be punished... the mission was a success, I will be rewarded, Phoebe,"_ he had promised her, though she sensed he was not entirely confident of this himself.

"I am ready," he announced, rousing Phoebe from her thoughts.

Phoebe stood from where she had been sitting at the dining table, but all she could do was nod at him.

"Phoebe, I…" he started to say, but she did not let him finish.

"Go, Severus… I will be fine. Go do what you need to do," she said, nodding to him once more. She did not truly comprehend what his job entailed, but it was difficult to watch him walk out the door toward the uncertain future, so she left the sitting room and walked down the hall into her bedroom. She sat on the bed, hugging one of her pillows close. Shortly she heard the man's voice as he unnecessarily set instructions for the house-elf to watch over her, then the snap of the front door as it was opened and then closed. And… he was gone.

As Severus closed the door behind him he blew out a slow breath. He felt no fear, only concentration fixed upon his newest task, he raised his chin, turned and Disapparated from the lane way.

Apparating to the shadows covering the footpath of Spinner's End, he surveyed the street. Upon determining it was empty, as usual, he made his way down the cobbled path until he reached the last house - his house. It had been his childhood home many years ago, though few were aware of this, nor of his true parentage.

His Father had been a Muggle, it had been his house, Severus' Muggle Grandparents' house before him. Severus lived here during the holiday break from Hogwarts, he'd had little choice. The dark man had no other family and when his mother and father had passed away, he had resumed ownership and occupation of the dwelling outside of his working months.

Severus hated being back here, there were many unhappy and unpleasant memories. Although his mother had been a pure-blood witch, his father had been abusive toward her... and even toward Severus on occasion. And despite the fact that his pure-blood witch mother had chosen the man , for reasons Severus could only guess, as a life partner, never betraying or deserting him, Severus had developed a hatred of the man, a hatred of what he was… a worthless, useless, abusive Muggle. Hence beginning the journey down the dark path which Severus would regret in years to come.

He withdrew his wand and unlocked the door, stepping inside, into the darkness. The house appeared deserted and neglected, however it always did. With a wave of his wand several candle lamps ignited throwing a dim glow of dancing light over the room.

From a corner came a voice, high... and squeaky, "Where have you been?"

Severus swung around, startled, though not showing it, "I do not believe that is any business of yours, Wormtail," he shot at the smaller, rat like man: the once school friend of James Potter - Peter Pettigrew.

"On the contrary, Snape," Wormtail retorted, "the Dark Lord has requested me to discover your whereabouts. He wishes to know what has kept you from returning, along with the others, to his side."

"Where is he?" Severus asked, ignoring the implied questions from Wormtail.

"Lamnordron," answered Wormtail, "He is expecting you to go there, as soon as you had been located." The small man narrowed his eyes toward Severus and asked once again, "Where have you been?"

"And I have told you, none of your business," Severus growled. "Only the Dark Lord will hear my account, I have no need or desire to explain myself to you!" With that he swiftly turned on his heel, exited the house and Disapparated from the shadows masking the cobble stoned footpath.

Severus Apparated to the remote castle ruins, known as _Lamnordron_ by all Death Eaters. It was one of a number of locations the Dark Lord had used as a hide out or the base for his various operations over the years. Severus had been here before and knew that his arrival was already known to the Dark Lord, as he had set magical detection spells around its boundary many years ago.

Severus made his way through the ruins to the one tower that remained standing and relatively intact, entering through the large archway. Up the stone steps that wound around the tower's inner wall, he knew he would find the series of rooms in which the Dark Lord ran his meetings. He approached the door on the landing and waited. After a few moments he heard the cold, high voice of Voldemort summon his entry.

"Snape, you may enter."

Severus opened the door in front of him and passed across the threshold. As he approached the centre of the room he knelt down on one leg, "Thank you, My Lord," he said, bowing his head.

"As you know, Snape, I have been kept waiting by you to report on your involvement in the incidents of last night," hissed the cold voice, soft footsteps approaching even closer to Severus.

Severus looked up at the powerful Wizard, "Yes, My Lord. My apologies, I was delayed-" Severus began to explain.

"That much is obvious… get to the point, Snape," Voldemort sneered, his red, slit-pupilled eyes, cold and pitiless, looking down on Severus.

"I was delayed, My Lord, as I was injured and dropped my wand. I remained behind so that I may retrieve it. I was forced to wait a number of hours, My Lord, however I was successful," Severus finished, steeling himself for Voldemort's inevitable wrath.

"You were injured?" questioned Voldemort, his red eyes narrowing, "I was informed that you were last seen duelling with Harry Potter. Are you to tell me that the boy got the better of you, Snape?"

"No, My Lord, I was injured by a hippogriff… it was protecting Potter," Severus spat a little in disgust of what had transpired the previous evening. He should never have allowed himself to be caught so unawares. "I did not notice it approach, My Lord," he continued, feeling the need to explain.

Voldemort began to stroll around the room, walking behind Severus as the wizard remained kneeling on the floor. "You... _failed_... to notice the hippogriff's impending attack?" he asked, the malice in his voice increasing with every word.

Severus sensed the powerful wizard stop directly behind him, then suddenly he was in great agony as Voldemort squeezed his long, slender, white fingers tightly over the recent scars on his shoulder. The Dark Lord had known all along, Severus thought, precisely where and how he had been injured, that much was evident now, as he was deliberately attempting to throw Severus off his composure by aggravating the injury. It was all he could do to prevent any sound from escaping his mouth. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes, resisting the sensation and rejecting the pain. Then Voldemort released him just as suddenly.

"Failure is not something I accept readily, Snape. Perhaps you have forgotten," Voldemort jeered, as Severus swayed on the spot.

"No… My Lord," Severus answered, regaining his breath, swallowing, then lifting his chin.

"Yet, you dare to keep me waiting?" the cold voice pressed.

Severus drew another breath, "I came as soon as I was able, My Lord, as soon as I had managed to retrieve my wand and heal my wounds." The few moments of silence that followed seemed an eternity.

"Very well, Snape, I will accept your excuse for now, though be sure it does not happen again," the Dark Lord commanded, pacing again and coming back into Severus' view.

"Yes, My Lord, thank you," Severus abased himself, relieved to be moving on.

"So, what is it you have to add to the report?" requested the Dark Lord.

"Dumbledore is dead, he was killed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry last night, fulfilling the task you gave to Draco Malfoy last July, My Lord. A number of Death Eaters were captured and some killed, though I am unable to confirm numbers, My Lord, as I was injured and was not able to return immediately, as you are aware," Severus reported systematically.

At this Voldemort interceded, "The task, as you say, was given directly to the boy, was he successful?" he asked, expectantly.

"The task was... accomplished, My Lord, the Headmaster is dead... I assure you," Severus responded confidently.

"Crucio!" Voldemort bellowed, directing his wand at Severus. The dark man screamed as unbearable pain seared throughout his entire body. He fell to the floor, writhing and twisting as the curse tore at every cell within his frame. He lost all track of time and space, begging inside his own head for release from the torture that was existence. He was aware of a torturous screaming when it continued, insistent and wretched, as if it were remote from Severus, but when the pain began to subside he became mindful that it was he himself who was screaming. He immediately forced the cries to diminish to whimpers, then replaced them entirely with deep shuddering breaths.

Severus was lying on the ground curled in a ball, the sweat was beading on his skin and he was shivering uncontrollably, but he dragged himself back up to his knees to face the Dark Lord once more.

"Answer the question, Snape," goaded Voldemort, sneering at him again. "Was Draco successful?"

"No, My Lord," Severus answered, his voice quivering along with the rest of his body, "the task was completed... by ... myself." Severus desperately drew deep breaths to calm his shaken composure.

"Much better, Snape," Voldemort encouraged, with slight sarcasm, "Stand!" he ordered sharply.

Severus took a moment to gather himself, he was still shaking from the torture curse, but as quickly as possible he complied with the Dark Lord's directive.

Voldemort approached close to him, from the front this time; they were roughly the same height. He eyed Severus appraisingly, "Good work… well done," he said approvingly, slapping Severus on his uninjured shoulder this time. "Let's celebrate!"

The Dark Lord exited through a second door to the room, leaving Severus standing in the anteroom alone, breathing heavily and desperately trying to abate his tremors. Once he had them mostly under control he followed the Dark Lord into the next room to join in the celebrations with a number of other Death Eaters; some masked and others not.

A dark haired woman with a strong jaw and heavily lidded eyes approached Severus as he entered the room. She had the looks of a once very attractive woman reduced to someone who had endured much suffering, her cheeks now sunken and gaunt with grey streaking her hair, though she would never be described as unattractive, even now.

"Tough morning, Snape?" she gibed. "You're looking a little pale," her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Severus gave her a scathing look, "Bellatrix… you know very well how my morning has gone," he snarled, knowing everyone in the room would have heard his screams. Just then he began to feel dizzy, with the combined effect of the Cruciatus curse and his trauma of the previous night, he swayed alarmingly.

Bellatrix stuck her hand out to support him, grabbing him firmly by his arm.

"Steady, Snape. Do not lose it now," she encouragingly him in a low voice, looking over toward Voldemort and checking he was occupied for the moment. "Come and sit, do not let the Dark Lord see your vulnerability," she suggested at a whisper.

She led him to the nearest chair where he sat next to the woman, sucking in more deep breaths, grateful for the support and a chance to rest.

"A change of heart, Bellatrix?" Severus asked after a moment, surprised and suspicious of her concern, as the last time he had encountered the woman, she had made it perfectly clear that she did not trust him in the slightest.

"You have proven me wrong, Snape. The Dark Lord was right to trust in you, I see that now," she admitted. "He has informed us all of what happened last night."

Suddenly Severus remembered Draco, "Where is Draco?" he asked with some concern.

Bellatrix looked around them edgily, "My nephew is here somewhere," then added more quietly as she saw Severus' questioning glance. "Yes, he was punished, though his life was spared thanks to you. Though I am glad Narcissa was not here to witness, as I fear my sister would have been foolish enough to take on the Dark Lord in order to save him. She has been on edge of late."

Severus' forehead creased into a frown at Bellatrix's mention of her sister, Narcissa. He was having his own troubles with the woman, he remembered, possibly related to the fact that Narcissa appeared _on edge_ as Bellatrix had put it. Would the blond woman's suspicions regarding Severus continue now?

"Why do you keep our hero of the moment all to yourself, Bellatrix?" came a chilling voice out of the small crowd.

"My Lord, I do not keep him, just merely congratulating him," she explained, humble, standing and taking a step back from Severus.

Voldemort took a glass goblet from the laden tray that was levitated magically beside him and offered it to Severus. The dark man took it, graciously.

"Thank you, My Lord," Severus said, remaining seated against his better judgement because he could not guarantee that if he stood at this moment he would remain so.

Then Voldemort raised his own golden goblet and toasted, "To Snape… and his spectacular elimination of the great _Albus Dumbledore_."

The entire room then raised their glasses, "To Snape," they chanted in unison.

"And now as a reward, I have advanced Severus Snape…" Voldemort inclined his head toward the seated Severus, "officially to…" the Dark Lord began glancing around the room, "my _Second_ in Command!" he announced, his eyes coming to rest on Severus' own eyes. At the declaration a dull murmur began to spread throughout the room.

Severus, not daring to risk further insubordination, slid off his chair after depositing his drink on the small table beside the chairs, and kneeled as before on one leg at Voldemort's feet, "Thank you, My Lord. I will serve you well," he acknowledged.

Voldemort just nodded once at him, though Severus thought he noticed, before he bowed his head in subservience, a sinister gleam within those red, snake like eyes.

Retrieving his goblet from the small table, Severus stood, he was shaky though he managed it, then raising the glass above his own head, "To the Dark Lord," he bid, inclining his head toward Voldemort. Once again, the room chanted their assent.

For a moment they both just stared appraisingly at one another before the corners of Voldemort's mouth turned up vaguely in what appeared to be a victorious smile, then he turned and was swallowed into the small crowd once more.

Severus took the opportunity to sit down again as the focus shifted away from him. He took another deep breath.

"Drink," suggested Bellatrix, as she was once again standing beside him, placing her hand over his own left hand that was grasping his measure of spirit, gently directing the goblet toward his mouth.

He allowed the woman to continue to guide his refreshment, as his hands still bore a slight tremble. He threw back his head and drained the amber liquid in one swallow, wiping his mouth with the edge of his left sleeve, the goblet still within his hand. Bellatrix moved behind him and began to massage his shoulders.

"Urrgh... stop," he growled to her, flinching violently. He then reached up with his right hand and grabbed a hold of her hand, with which she had been kneading his injured left shoulder, and pulled it away from the still smarting injury, blowing out his breath slowly then hissing through gritted teeth.

Bellatrix moved around in front of him, narrowing her eyes at him, "You are injured?" she inquired.

He still had a hold of her hand, which he promptly dropped to place his own hand as support to soothe his paining shoulder.

"Yes... though it is healing," he explained, trying to appear dismissive.

"Do you want me to take a look?" she offered, with a air of superiority.

Severus looked at Bellatrix, considering her a moment, "What do you know of hippogriff slashes, Bellatrix?" he questioned her.

"You were gored by a hippogriff?" she asked in surprise. "It will probably be infected, Snape. What have you used on it?" she went on to say, still eyeing Severus.

"Dittany," he replied, setting down his goblet.

"Is that all?" she asked, but without waiting for an answer she continued, "It will require more than that otherwise it will take far too long to heal. You may not even diminish the scar completely unless you also treat it with York Bean paste. Hippogriff wounds are often tenacious, Snape. Come into the other room, I will have a look," she said, taking his hand and leading the man into an empty, adjoining third room.

The injury had been a thorn in his side, so Severus did not resist even though he still remained uneasy about Bellatrix's sudden change in behaviour toward him. Nevertheless the woman was a trained healer, if she could assist in his recovery, he would take advantage.

Bellatrix closed the door behind him as he crossed the threshold. Removing his cloak for him, then meticulously beginning to undo his many coat buttons, Bellatrix looked up at his face.

"You should have come to me first, Snape, rather than bumble through this on your own," she chastised him.

Undoing the last button, Bellatrix pulled off Severus' coat and then moments later, his shirt, exposing the dressing covering his injury.

Running her fingers up his arm before unsticking the dressing, Severus' stomach gave a jolt as he realised the woman appeared to be… flirting with him. 'But she is married, I must be just imagining things! Although… her husband, Rodolphus, _is_ currently in Azkaban,' he thought curiously.

Bellatrix was now examining the closed wounds. "Severus, you are lucky not to have lost your arm," she surmised, "judging by the size of the scars these were very deep, were they not?"

"Yes," he answered, noticing with interest that she was now addressing him by his first name.

"It was fortunate that you were able to heal them immediately, you could have bled to death quite quickly, Severus," she said, touching one of the scars gently.

"Yes," he responded automatically, flinching slightly at her touch, then becoming vaguely aware of the gaping hole in his account of what had happened the previous night.

"I have some York Bean paste in the store room," she said, "wait here."

In her absence he fully recognised his mistake, though he registered that Bellatrix had seemed to have been far too focused on his injury to notice the discrepancy, if indeed she had even been informed by the Dark Lord in the first place. Upon reflection Severus thought he wasn't even sure if their leader had been aware, before Severus' return, that he had dropped his wand, needing to wait before he was able to retrieve it.

While he waited, Severus also analysed the woman's behaviour. Had she really been flirting with him? And if so… why? Bellatrix had never showed him so much as a fleeting interest in the past. Had she been aware of his impending promotion within the Dark Lord's ranks? Was it strategically motivated; Bellatrix attempting to retain favour with the senior members? Severus pondered all possible incentives, leaning for support, against the large table, as he awaited Bellatrix's return.

"Let's get this on," Bellatrix spoke, as she re-entered through the doorway.

Severus looked up from his pondering to see her approach him with the jar of paste, along with another container filled with what Severus recognised as more Dittany salve. Bellatrix blended the two together in another shallow dish, then applied it gently to the man's scars. After smoothing on the last of it, she withdrew her wand and murmuring an almost musical incantation, she waved her wand in two complete circles slowly over the injury.

The man could feel heat being drawn out of his shoulder, it was uncomfortable, though he would not have described it as painful - not following this mornings encounter with the Dark Lord, at any rate.

Bellatrix replaced the dressing and as Severus began to re-clothe himself, the woman commented, "You are still pale, Snape. How much blood _did_ you lose?"

Back to _Snape_ again, he observed. Not looking at her, but continuing to dress, Severus responded, "It has been treated, Bellatrix."

"You have taken a blood restorative draught?" she queried, surprised.

"Yes, I was able to acquire a number of doses," he informed her, glancing in her direction.

Severus noticed her eyes had temporarily narrowed in suspicion, though the look was fleeting and within moments Bellatrix was assisting Severus with his many buttons. Once again he was finding the woman far more accommodating than he would normally have expected. Severus had no doubt in his mind that he would one day find out why…

Severus and Bellatrix made their way back to the _celebrations_ once he had dressed completely. As he re-entered the main chamber, Severus noticed Draco sitting, or more specifically crouching, in the corner of the room, obviously trying to remain inconspicuous. Severus went to move toward him but Bellatrix grabbed a hold of his elbow.

"His needs have been looked after, Severus. I would not recommend getting involved," she quietly advised.

Once again, Severus gave Bellatrix a scathing look, "He is still a child, Bellatrix," he snapped his low response.

"Oh, this is a side of you I had no idea of, Snape. Being Head of Slytherin House has caused you to become all paternal," Bellatrix cackled in amusement, "your concern is... touching."

"I made a vow to protect him, as you very well know, Bellatrix," Severus continued fiercely, though still at a whisper.

"I believe the Unbreakable Vow has been fulfilled, Severus," she suggested in a matter-of-fact tone, "it ended the moment you murdered Dumbledore."

Severus snatched his elbow out of Bellatrix's grasp, "The vow I made to Narcissa goes beyond the boundaries of the Unbreakable Vow, Bellatrix!" The truth of this statement was entirely staggering, but Bellatrix remained blissfully unaware of the extent of it and with that Severus made his way directly to Draco, crouching at the boy's side.

The woman did not follow him, but made her way into the modest crowd.

"Draco," Severus said, calmly.

The teenager looked up, it was obvious to Severus that he had been crying, though there were no tears currently on his face. Draco sent Severus a nasty look, but Severus ignored it.

"This life you now find yourself in... it will be… difficult, Draco," Severus said, not looking directly at the blond boy, "but know... I will continue to help you."

Severus limited his comments to that, standing and turning to walk away. He felt a small tug on his cloak and looked down to find Draco clutching the bottom of his robe. The expression on the teenagers face was one of a suppressed terror, but Severus knew there was nothing he could do for him here, now, so he gave Draco the smallest of nods before walking away, pulling his cloak from the boy's grasp.

Protecting Draco was to become one of Severus' most challenging duties. The dark man had indeed made the vow to Narcissa, which he would exploit in order to remain in favour with the blond woman, and that was now more important than ever. Though this reason paled in comparison to the sacrifice of _life_ the Headmaster had made for Draco, and the sacrifice Severus himself had made for the boy - _executing_ that very murder. Killing Dumbledore in place of the teenager kept the boy's soul free of the corruption Voldemort wished to inflict upon him in the name of fidelity. It had been one of Dumbledore's final wishes, that Draco's innocence remain intact and he was kept from falling under the dark shadow that Severus himself knew so well, and Severus' burden would not be lightened until the Dark Lord was defeated. So much weight rested on the man's shoulders now - how long could Severus continue to carry it? How long would Harry Potter need?


	18. Chapter 18  Burden

What on earth has Phoebe nudged Severus into?

As usual, I'm begging for reviews... any scraps of feedback... just a hello, I like/hate, even... PLEASE!

**Chapter 18 **_- Burden_

Phoebe had realised, when Severus had not returned after the first forty-eight hours, that he may be gone for a long time, without word. Weeks or months even, and he probably would give no warning before he did return.

However, she found herself much more content within the confines of the cottage with the large stack of books Severus had provided. All the books, she discovered, pertained to the Wizarding World, a topic which Phoebe was glad in which to immerse herself.

Although she had found herself, on occasion, pointlessly pacing whatever room she had been in, thinking of Severus; whether he was safe, where he was and when he may return. A futile occupation, so she chastised herself whenever she caught herself doing this, immediately turning to the reading material for alternative stimulus.

The first time she examined the titles of the books, she had realised that Severus had wanted her to familiarise herself with _his_ world. Many of the answers to the questions she had already asked the man, were to be found in at least one of the publications.

_Hogwarts, A History_… well Severus had obviously wanted Phoebe to know the history of the school he had attended as a child, and had worked as a teacher. She had discovered many interesting facts about the castle, such as, no wizard or witch could Apparate within the school's boundary, as it was protected by many spells and charms. She also discovered that it was centuries old, founded by four Witches and Wizards of long ago, whose names were still remembered, as each _house_ bore ones name. _Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Griffindor and Slytherin_. Phoebe could not remember whether Severus had ever mentioned what house he had been in at school, though as she had upon further reading found out that Slytherin's common room and dormitories were located somewhere in the dungeons, as had been Severus' living quarters, she assumed that he must at least represent Slytherin house now as a teacher, if he had not also as a student.

With a roll of her eyes, Phoebe also read how Salazar Slytherin had restricted Muggle-born students being included within his own house, preferring to maintain a pure-blood culture. Severus had indeed inherited an old prejudice and Phoebe was impressed at how the man had seemed to overcome it, or outgrow it, if you will.

The next book she chose was a guide on House-elves, the history of their relationships with Wizards, and a brief explanation of their magical talent. Phoebe found this subject fascinating, often confirming what she had discovered with Erlin (and by the way, Phoebe did read that Severus was correct, house-elves cannot produce something from nothing, though it was pointed out in the book that many wizards also struggled with this accomplishment, it was apparently advanced magic). The house-elf was more than happy to sit and discuss the merits of the book and subject with Phoebe, and she began to develop a real friendship with, and admiration for, the creature. To feel a satisfaction in being a _slave_ for another race baffled Phoebe, however she admired the utter joy, pride and devotion that Erlin was able to extend to his work and often explained to him that it was a feeling that many humans lacked, regardless of whether they were Wizards or Muggles.

Phoebe had also read that the house-elf was actually bound to a specific family for their entire life, unless they were set free by way of being presented with clothes. Triggering something in Phoebe's memory, she now understood what Severus had once said to Erlin when he had been angry with the house-elf for not getting Phoebe breakfast. Oddly, he had threatened to have Erlin set _free_. Upon asking Erlin about this, the house-elf insisted that it was an actual threat, that house-elves did not _want_ to be set free. However Erlin took great pleasure in announcing that _Master_ was not actually able to follow through on the threat personally, as Erlin was in fact bound to the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Phoebe just mouthed _"Oh..."_ and looked away from Erlin rolling her eyes a little. Knowing Severus as she did, she suspected Erlin should indeed take the threat seriously, as Severus was nothing if not determined - he might just be able to convince Dumbledore--

At this thought Phoebe stopped and closed her eyes, bowing her head. Erlin was no longer bound to Dumbledore, she realised with sadness. No wonder Erlin seemed to be acting more confidently about Severus' ability to _free_ him. Phoebe's thoughts drifted away from the painful memories of Dumbledore (an ability Phoebe had years of practice with) to Hogwarts, yet more specifically, to _who_ had taken on the job of Headmaster. The only other person at Hogwarts that Phoebe had met was Professor McGonagall, or _Minerva_ as Phoebe thought Severus had addressed her as on both occasions she had heard him mention her name. And the second time, he had specifically said that she would have made the decision to seal Severus' quarters so it may be searched. It was most probable that Professor McGonagall had indeed taken on the role of Headmistress.

"I have work to do, Mistress, please excuse me," Erlin said beside her, startling Phoebe from her thoughts. She had forgotten he was there… again… or still. Phoebe suspected it was a mark of a _good_ house-elf, unobtrusively getting the jobs done so well that the _family _was barely aware that anything had even been done in the first place, let alone noticing who it was that was doing it.

"Of course, Erlin, I think I'm finished with this for today anyway," she said, snapping the book closed. Severus had been gone for almost ten weeks and although she had occupied her idle time mostly with the stack of books, Phoebe was making sure to pace herself, reading them thoroughly for only a few hours a day, or a set number of Chapters unless she was deliberately trying to distract herself from brooding.

She placed the book on the coffee table, turning her thoughts back to Professor McGonagall. This was a woman who was once Severus' friend. Well… friendly toward him at least. And Severus had lost that now, because of what Dumbledore had asked him to do. Phoebe felt a little angry at the situation… at Dumbledore. Severus had given up so much for Dumbledore's plan, and it seemed there was no room for Severus to explain why he'd needed to kill the Headmaster. How was he to gain their trust again, how would he reclaim his life when all of this was over? Phoebe had encouraged Severus, before he left, to follow through with the plan to help Harry, yet she had no idea how he would actually accomplish this. The man was extremely intelligent, he would find a way she supposed… he just had to.

Phoebe looked down at her swollen stomach. This was what Severus would need to reclaim - his child, and the life they would build together for him or her, his right to walk free amongst his peers, his job; teaching Potions. Phoebe had seen it was a passion for Severus. She remembered he had said he could brew most potions without even a recipe. The small bottle of anti-nausea potion suddenly came into her mind. Severus' talent had ensured that this pregnancy would be Phoebe's most pleasant so far and she remembered his attention went further than that, nagging her to eat properly. She smiled unconsciously at the memories of the man, then rubbing her hand over her _bump_ she came crashing down from her temporary happiness as she recalled that she had no clue where Severus was, when he would be back, or even if she would ever see him again.

"Time for another book," she thought, furious with herself for dwelling on this topic yet again. Phoebe stood and took the house-elf book from the coffee table. She carried it into the bedroom where she placed it beside the large pile of books. Sifting through the titles, she almost decided on the Potions text, but then changed her mind and took_ The Standard Book of Spells (Grade Three)_ from the stack.

Lying on the bed, Phoebe opened the cover and found the same small handwriting, that she had discovered within the other texts, making notations on various topics upon the pages. Phoebe liked to assume this was Severus' handwriting, though she had never actually seen him write anything personally. She traced her finger over the ink, then began reading from the top of the page.

After learning about the theory of some of the spells and new wand techniques (more advanced than Grade One and Two, she assumed), Phoebe decided to try out some of the spells. Taking out a wooden coat hanger from her wardrobe and unscrewing the wire hook, Phoebe had herself a substitute wand. She smirked at her own ingenious propensity. 'Well… at least it was something to do,' she thought, rolling her eyes at herself.

The first spell called for an adaptation to the regularly used _swish and flick_ technique. Phoebe followed the directions for the _original_ technique, practicing extending her arm fully during the swish, then bending her elbow and wrist slightly to effect the flick. 'Easy enough,' she thought, then looked back to the text to learn the adaptation. This time instead of just an ordinary swish, the movement called for a full circle motion before the flick. A couple more practices had Phoebe also perfecting the new technique.

The instructions within the text now suggested to add the particular spells to the movements. The original swish and flick was most commonly used with the Levitating Charm - Wingardium Leviosa. Phoebe said it out loud, chuckling afterwards at how stupid she felt. She then added the wand work for good measure, giggling even more so.

The next spell, a Charm to repel a Boggart (Phoebe raised her eyebrows, then shrugged) - Riddikulus, required the new technique. Phoebe stuck out her substitute wand, performed the movement while chanting the new word. She laughed out loud… she did indeed feel very ridiculous.

Looking back to the book, sitting again on the edge of the bed, Phoebe flicked through the pages to the next chapter entitled _Defensive Spells_, beginning with a disarming spell - Expelliarmus.

Phoebe frowned, "Expelliarmus?" she said out loud, "that sounds familiar," she muttered quietly to herself, "where would I have heard that?" she continued to say in a little more than a whisper, perplexed.

"I used it in the alley," came a deep silky reply from her bedroom doorway.

Startled, Phoebe jumped and spun her head toward the door, Severus was standing with his hand on the door frame.

"Severus! I didn't hear you come in… how long have you been here?" she asked, standing, flicking the impromptu wand onto the bed and swiftly approaching the man, throwing her arms around his neck.

The man had a smirk on his face, "Long enough to see you practicing. Nice wand, by the way," he said, the sarcasm obvious.

Phoebe blushed, burying her face in his chest, giggling, "That's not fair, I was just trying to find something to do." She looked back up at his face, "Stop that smirking," she demanded, embarrassed but amused.

He cupped her face in his hands, first kissing her forehead, then her lips. It rapidly turned into a very passionate kiss and they did not pull apart for a few minutes.

Breathless, yet ecstatic, Phoebe moaned how she had missed the man dreadfully when they did finally cease. When the shock of first seeing him had worn off a little, she remembered her anxiety regarding his safety.

"Are you okay?" she asked, stepping back from him and searching him all over to be sure he was not bleeding like the last time. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"No, Phoebe, do not worry... I am not injured," he responded, grasping her hands and pulling her back to him.

"What about your shoulder? Has it healed?"

"Completely," he answered, concisely.

Phoebe ran her right hand over his left shoulder wanting to confirm his answer as the truth. He did not flinch and she sighed with relief. "How long do I have you for?" she asked, knowing there was no hope that it was forever.

"A few hours," he said, sombrely, "I have a few hours..."

She pulled him into a tight embrace, "This is like torture," she remarked and she suddenly felt the tiniest shudder pass through the man. She glanced at his face, but he refused to return her gaze, sighing silently instead and pressing his face into her neck.

Knowing there wasn't anything she could do about it, and realising he would not likely want to discuss what he'd had to endure, she let it go, holding him tighter to her instead.

Several moments later, Phoebe let the man go and began to tidy away the book she had been reading from the bed. Severus picked up her impromptu wand.

"Your technique needs work, you know."

Phoebe stopped and looked to him, "Oh, it does, does it? Well… enlighten me, where am I going wrong?" she queried smugly, a twinkle in her eye.

Taking the challenge, the smirk back on Severus' face, he handed her the coat hanger wand and moved behind her to assist her movements. Phoebe felt his warmth against her back, she had missed his closeness, feeling so much calmer now that he was here. Phoebe turned her head sideways so his cheek rested upon her temple. He was now whispering instructions in her ear and she felt his warm breath on her own cheek. He wrapped his left arm around her body, his hand coming to rest on her stomach.

Momentarily Phoebe felt the man freeze, then he kissed her temple and whispered in her ear, "Our baby is growing," and he gently caressed his hand over her _bump_.

"Yes," she responded, placing her own hand over his.

"Repeat after me," he said, continuing with the lesson. "Win-gardium Levi-o-sar."

"Win-gardium Levi-o-sar," she repeated, and he guided her outstretched wand hand through the correct motion. "Oh, up like that," she said, with a new understanding.

"Yes, it is conducive to the motion you wish the _object_ to travel," he explained. "The adaptation, such as for _Riddikulus_ is thus. Repeat, Riddikulus," Severus instructed.

"Riddikulus," Phoebe imitated, Severus once again guiding her hand through the varied motion.

"Good," Severus commended, nodding. "Now _Expelliarmus_ is different entirely, you start from back here, then swing forward," he said, describing the motion, "ready now… Ex-pelliarmus."

"Ex-pelliarmus," Phoebe chanted, Severus moving her hand from bent elbow, to directly straight out in front through an arc on the side. "This is what you used in the alley, you said?" Phoebe questioned.

"Yes, primarily used for disarming, though it can be used to expel someone if aimed directly at them," he explained. "Executed correctly it is a powerful spell."

"Like this?" Phoebe asked, pulling herself out of the man's hold, "Ex-pelliarmus," she spoke loudly, demonstrating the movement by herself.

"Yes, but say it with feeling… and concentrate wholly on what it is you wish to achieve… you have to _mean_ it, _want_ it," Severus described.

"Ex-pelliarmus!" she bellowed, the concentration and determination showing on her face and in her voice, breathing heavily afterwards.

"Yes… yes," he encouraged, then looking at her curiously, "use a real wand... here use my wand," he offered, reaching inside his robes and pulling out the polished length of timber.

Phoebe eyed the wand apprehensively, "No… I don't think so," she muttered, shaking her head, remembering her thoughts about his _weapon_ many weeks ago and how it had made her feel so uncomfortable she had decided she would never hold it again.

"Do not be afraid, Phoebe. The wand will only direct your power, there is nothing to fear," he said, expectantly.

Phoebe gave him a perplexed look, "I am not a witch, Severus," she said, shaking her head. Then she frowned as she comprehended his intention, "But you want me to be, don't you… you wish that I was."

Severus had a slightly shocked expression on his face which he quickly masked as he shook his head.

"No, Phoebe," he answered, "though we both know things would be much easier if you were, especially for now. Though… perhaps I did consider that… just to test and see. But no, I was wrong, I have no desire to change what you are. I want you as I found you." The man replaced his wand back within his robes, holding his hand out for her hand.

She took his offered hand, allowing him to pull her close to him, turning her face to his and accepting the gentle kiss he pressed on her lips. He took the _coat hanger wand_ from Phoebe's other hand and tossed it down to the floor against the wall.

"Do you feel our baby move yet?" he asked, taking Phoebe by surprise with the change in subject. Before she answered, he had turned her around so that her back was against his body once more, pulling up her shirt slightly and placing his hands over her swollen belly.

"No, I haven't felt anything yet… but it is still early," she answered, shaking her head.

"I want to _be _with you," he suddenly announced, kissing her fervidly down her neck, his hands uncharacteristically and roughly pawing at her, causing her to gasp in discomfort.

"Severus," she said trying to pry loose one of his hands that she was sure would leave a small bruise. "Severus… what-"

"_Fuck_ me!" he demanded, his insistent tone frighteningly cold.

Phoebe thought Severus had been acting a little strangely since he had arrived, but she hadn't been sure up until now. She spun toward him, shoving him away from her and holding her hands in front of her to fend him off in case he insisted on continuing the molestation. "What has happened Severus, why are you acting this way?" she demanded fearfully, a mixture of confusion and concern skipping across her features.

Instead of the expected argument from Severus that there wasn't anything wrong, he first appeared shocked, then frowned and backed further away from Phoebe. Rubbing his hands over his face, he appeared agitated and distressed. He swore again and without looking at her he apologised.

"I am sorry," then he abruptly let out a single, loud roar of pain and frustration and then she watched, shocked, as he crumpled to his knees. It scared her to see him like this. He was a wreck, it showed on his face, anguish distorting his features into someone almost unrecognisable to the woman. Phoebe knelt in front of him.

"Severus," she said, gently reaching her hand to his shoulder. He pushed her hand away from him, rejecting her effort to console him. Tears began to well in her eyes, feeling a desperate need to reach out to him and insist that he accept her comfort, "I am here, Severus… let me help you," she begged him, leaning forward to hold him.

The man did not shed a tear, he did not tremble or wail, but he did appear to be in great distress, finally grabbing tightly to the woman in front of him. 'What on earth has happened to affect him so badly?' she wondered as she held him. She also wondered how many times during his service to the Dark Lord, whilst spying for the Order, Dumbledore had needed to support him emotionally like this. Was this a common reaction from Severus? But then she remembered that this war was now in full swing, something that hadn't occurred since that Potter boy was about one year old, fifteen years ago. Severus needed support and it was down to her now she realised with a pang. Now that the Headmaster was gone, Severus had no one else he could rely on.

"Do you want to talk about what has happened?" Phoebe asked him gently.

He shook his head, "No," he answered bluntly, breathing deeply. Phoebe crooned words of comfort to him.

"It's okay, we don't have to talk. I'll help you with what I can… you are safe while you are here with me," she continued, hoping she was helping.

Phoebe noticed the man seemed to be calming a little. Several minutes later (and much calmer) he lifted his head from her shoulder, "I need to eat," he said, pushing Phoebe away gently and standing up. He helped her to her feet along side him.

'He is so strong inside,' Phoebe thought to herself, although she recognised it wasn't good at all for him to be bottling everything up, but she knew he must have no other choice. Maybe it was just enough that he boil over every now and again to release the pressure. She would not deny him that.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand and leading the man through to the dining table. "Erlin… we need to eat, please," Phoebe requested of the house-elf when she found him in the kitchen.

The house-elf obliged immediately, Phoebe seating herself at the table right beside Severus. She wanted to maintain physical contact with him, somehow she suspected it was what he needed and he appeared grateful to hold her hand through the entire meal. She was just glad that she could help, even if it was only in a small way, as she badly wanted to get him through this ordeal in one piece; physically and emotionally.

Although she did not want to press him, Phoebe did ask one question of him, "Have you found a way to help Harry, Severus?"

He glanced momentarily at her, "I am still working on it," he answered, plainly.


	19. Chapter 19  Expectation

Severus is back amongst the fray - but this time he finally gets to use his contingency plan.

Please review - I cannot express it any more plainly than that...

**Chapter 19**_ - Expectation_

Severus re-corked his emotions during the meal. He was disappointed with himself for losing control in front of Phoebe and had been thoroughly disgusted that he had propositioned the woman in such a manner. It had never been his style to act with such vulgarity.

He'd at least never had to worry about his behaviour in front of Dumbledore. The old Wizard had always known what Severus would have had to endure, and allowed him opportunity to express his torment while the Headmaster supported him. It was almost as if it were expected, but he was not there to help any more. The irony of the circumstances was not lost on Severus, the fact that the only man who could help Severus, who trusted him, and who Severus trusted in return, had been killed _by_ Severus… on the very man's own orders.

But now Severus had not even considered burdening Phoebe with his troubles. He had endeavoured to battle through it on his own… clearly Severus was losing that war.

Phoebe would worry about him more now, he knew. He'd never had any intention to involve her in his quest. He had earned his place within this turmoil, but he now felt guilty as Phoebe had already endured so much with the loss of her children... her whole family in fact. But her asking the question about his success in assisting Potter led him to believe she was, regrettably, already mentally and emotionally involved.

The dark man looked down at Phoebe's distended abdomen, his child was beginning to make its presence known. Severus longed to be able to remain with Phoebe, to watch the changes occur, to be a part of them, but he knew he could not and his presence here was only making things more difficult - for both of them.

"I should not have come here, it was not my intent to burden you," Severus apologised to Phoebe.

The woman gave Severus an incredulous look, "Don't be stupid, Severus. You needed to come, as much as I needed to see you," she said, reproachfully. "I am... fully aware of what it was I just witnessed in the bedroom. You cannot do this alone… you need someone to help you."

It was true, Severus recognised this, he did need _someone_ (he had tried unsuccessfully to get through it alone - he supposed that it was his intensifying distress that had led him to call upon Phoebe in the first place), but this did not prevent him from not wanting Phoebe specifically, involved. He still felt a need to protect her from the harsh realities of the _war_.

"I did not come here for... that..." he responded, wanting to explain that he had not wished for her to witness his weakness.

"Severus... I am not ashamed or disappointed in you," she asserted, "you must be going through hell. You won't talk about it... but I know you have to be. I shudder to think what you are being forced to do... or witness. But I am here for you, I can handle it. Remember… remember you said it yourself, I am strong. Please let me help you!"

"I cannot... talk about it, Phoebe," he insisted. "Today... I had been desperate… I will not need you in this way often," he admitted sombrely. It hurt for Severus to say this, weakness of any kind was not tolerated within the Dark Lord's ranks and he had, somewhere along the line, transferred this expectation into his own life.

Severus stood and left the table. He paced slowly in the sitting room for a number of minutes, in which time he asked Phoebe, twice (he had forgotten he had already asked), whether she had been feeling well herself during his absence.

Phoebe went to his side and prevented the relentless pacing. "Sit down," she persuaded. "I have been fine, Severus, and the baby is fine. You do not have to worry about us."

Severus remembered the four small bottles he had stored inside the pocket of his robes, two of them meant for Phoebe. "I have more Quellin potion for you, I am certain you would have run out by now."

"Quellin?" Phoebe asked, unsure of what Severus was referring to.

"For your morning sickness, that is the Potion's proper name," Severus explained.

"Oh, yes, I had nearly run out… I have been a little worse for wear some mornings, I have been trying to make it last," Phoebe admitted. "But I didn't want you to worry. I hope you didn't risk anything in order to get this for me."

Severus produced the two bottles and handed them to Phoebe, "This should be enough to get you almost to the end of your pregnancy, I remembered you said you usually suffered all the way through. I will try to make more, though it is difficult to get the ingredients without rousing suspicion. I cannot promise that I will be able to supply any more."

"Severus that is enough, I will use it sparingly, don't make any more," she appealed, shaking her head, "I will be okay."

Severus nodded in agreement, it had been risky to make this batch amongst his other brewing. He regretted his lack of foresight when he'd made the first batch at Hogwarts, leaving the remainder of the potion - which would have been ample for Phoebe's entire pregnancy (he had made a large batch because she had told him during their day together that she was usually sick up until she gave birth), at the castle. Though he could not have predicted that the attack on Dumbledore would have taken place so early.

This led him to contemplate what Minerva would have made out of the inclusion of this particular potion within his stores. He knew Horace Slughorn, his replacement Potions teacher (and indeed his own Professor whilst a student at Hogwarts) would have little trouble determining the contents of the vials. Perhaps the elderly Witch had indeed made the connection between Phoebe and the potion already, though would she also assume that Severus was the unborn infant's father? Severus was unsure, it was difficult to predict how the findings would have been interpreted.

The woman sitting beside him sidled even closer, burying her face in his neck, rousing him from his thoughts. He held her to him, it was comforting to feel her warmth so close to him. This woman was _his_, he'd never had that before, it made him feel good.

Thoughts of Bellatrix's advances trickled into his mind. The dark haired woman had persisted with the subtle flirting, though Severus was now fairly sure she must have an agenda separate from his advancement to the Dark Lord's Second, as she requested no special treatment nor any pertinent information from him.

The advances, though still subtle, were increasing in regularity and she did seem to become much more physical with him as time passed. She had almost kissed him nearly a week ago, well... he assumed that was what she was planning, as they had been interrupted by Wormtail. Severus did not ever instigate their encounters, however he did not think it wise to resist her enticements entirely, he had a nagging suspicion that he was being tested. Perhaps Narcissa had informed Bellatrix about Severus' possible association with a Muggle. With this in mind he had made the decision that it would be prudent to allow everyone to believe he was not involved with anyone, Witch or Muggle, consequently that meant encouraging Bellatrix to believe that he would entertain the thought of an intimate relationship with her, if she so wished. Though, of course, she would have to make the first move. He hoped it would never come to that, though he was prepared to follow through.

With Phoebe now held in his arms, he began to feel uncomfortable about his decision. This charade would be likely to result in feelings of betrayal if it were to be made known to Phoebe. Anger bubbled within him, again he was being forced to do something against his wishes, to potentially hurt someone he truly cared about. And for what - some sick game Bellatrix seemed to be playing with him?! He tore his thoughts away from the topic; it was making him angry... and he did not want to be angry during his limited time with Phoebe.

He concentrated his attention on her, caressing her neck and shoulders, smoothing her hair. Phoebe's lips, delicate and inviting, begged for him to kiss her. He lowered his lips to hers, kissing gently, tenderly seeking approval, which he received by way of her eager response. He wanted to be with her, longed to make-love to her… but he needed to leave soon. Would Phoebe understand afterwards, that although he had to leave, he desperately wanted to stay? It was not fair, he couldn't hurt her that way.

He began to pull away, but she refused to relinquish her hold on him.

"Severus, don't go… don't leave me... please!"

"I cannot stay, Phoebe," he began, "you understand that, don't you?"

'Yes, I know, but I need to be with you, just for now... it has been so long… make-love to me, Severus, I need you," she pleaded, silent tears sliding down her cheek.

He helped her to stand, taking her in a tender embrace, kissing her temple softly.

"Do not cry," he whispered soothingly, wiping away the tears and kissing her lips again, "we still have time."

He was gentle as they made-love, not wanting to hurt her. He enjoyed Phoebe's changing body, ensuring that she took pleasure in the experience also. He momentarily cleared all thoughts of the _war_ from his mind, he was the most relaxed he had been in many months, savouring the impassioned connection with Phoebe and his growing child within her. For a while it was bliss, everything as it should be, he could live like this for the rest of his life. And afterwards he lay next to her caressing her swelling stomach, whispering in her ear how life would be once their child was born. He wanted to stay, he did not want to leave… but he must.

Severus heard Phoebe's stifled sob as he closed the bedroom door, he ran his hand softly over the smooth surface of the door panel then he steeled himself, fighting the urge to return to the room and hold her. He left the cottage and strode to the middle of the deserted lane.

A small smirk spread across his face as he looked back at the safe-house. 'Now _that_ was a therapy Dumbledore had never been able to offer him,' he thought, with sarcastic amusement.

Sadness flickered his features momentarily at the thought of the Headmaster, then pulling himself together, he replaced his usual dour mask and Disapparated away.

Severus Apparated to Spinner's End, again making his way down to the last house and entering his childhood home. He called out to establish whether he was alone in the house or not.

"Wormtail! Are you here?" he growled loudly, then sighing with disappointment and displeasure when he heard scurrying coming from the concealed staircase behind the bookshelves.

The rat like man with small watery eyes emerged through the bookshelf door, "About time," he snapped, eyeing the tall, dark Wizard as he moved further into the room.

"A little over dramatic, don't you think, Wormtail? You were aware, were you not, that I needed to establish her whereabouts before we strike," Severus said silkily, as he sneered at the distasteful man.

"The Dark Lord requires-" Wormtail began, but Severus interrupted.

"Don't you tell me what the Dark Lord requires, you simpering parasite!" he spat vehemently, "I am Second in command, I will make those determinations."

Wormtail briefly looked as though he were thinking about drawing his wand, but wisely decided against it. Pettigrew's wizard talent was never a match for his peers at school, let alone Severus' with his acute attention focused on the Dark Arts even before attending Hogwarts. Instead the rat like man, his silver hand shining in the dim light, glowered at Severus.

"What did you discover, then? Are we to move yet?" he asked, slightly more warily.

"Gather a few Death Eaters, Wormtail. We strike tonight." Severus' insides were churning. In a few hours, he was to lead an assault on a member of the Order, an ally (albeit one who was unaware of his true allegiance). It made him feel sick, but it had to be done. The Dark Lord would need proof of his loyalty beyond the killing of Dumbledore. An ongoing record of obedience and achievement was required. Severus felt he was close to convincing Voldemort to entrust vital information about his horcruxes and their whereabouts. Several times he had sensed the Dark Lord evaluating his Second, considering his reliability.

The price was almost too high though, how could he follow through with this particular attack? He watched as Wormtail left the house to follow his orders. As the door was shut behind him, Severus swiped at a small stack of books perched atop a table next to him, knocking them violently to the ground, the sneer of distaste fixed upon his face.

Throwing himself down into one of his armchairs, he thought of his impending victim, 'She is so young!' His thoughts then drifted to James and Lily Potter, 'No younger than they had been though.'

Severus frowned, 'Am I trying to justify this?' he thought with contempt for himself - there was no justification for what he was about to do. She was irritating, clumsy and was undoubtedly in love with the werewolf, Remus Lupin, but she did not deserve to die. She had even once been _his_ student, a NEWT level student at that, and she was somewhat talented at Potions, achieving the necessary grade to become an Auror after all. Looking deep within himself he realised with a pang that he had indeed liked her, though he did not show it outwardly at Hogwarts, nor indeed at Order meetings… not that he had extended anyone that courtesy. He pondered the question whether it would be any easier if it were Lupin himself who was the target, but concluded that as much as he had detested James Potter and his friends, he could not wish an early grave on any of them (well... perhaps with the exception of Wormtail). Severus had never relished killing anyone… even before turning to the Light side.

Severus reached inside his robe pocket, fingering the remaining two small vials. He had carried these ever since he had returned to the Dark Lord, but had never used them. The right circumstances had never arrived. Perhaps he would have a chance this time.

The two Death Eaters Wormtail had recruited, Henderson - a large blond man, and Alecto Carrow, the female Death Eater (sister to Amycus), who had both entered Hogwarts with Draco during the attack on Dumbledore, arrived with the rat like man a number of hours later. Severus informed them of the target's location and explained the plan of attack.

"This is one of Potter's guards, she will have a certain amount of useful information, though I do not expect her to give it up easily. Trained Aurors rarely do," Severus explained. "They _will_ be expecting another attack, after Moody and Shacklebolt, be on your toes."

Severus sneered inwardly at his own last comment, these Death Daters were not known to be the brightest among the Dark Lord's ranks. Wormtail was not exceptionally talented, but he was by far the most useful and had proven himself to be vicious when it was required. After all, it was Pettigrew who was ultimately responsible for handing over his best friend, James Potter, James' wife and infant son to the Dark Lord those many years ago.

Severus knew he would never turn his back on this pitiful excuse for a man though, he understood all too well that it would be a fatal mistake. Wormtail had switched sides, but this did not mean he had suddenly developed a kinship or an affection for Severus based on an assumed common cause.

Wormtail had been the spy in the Order's ranks, Wormtail had betrayed his friends. At least Severus had never claimed to even like Potter, but to betray those who you called your friends was despicable, even in Severus' eyes. Some may say he had betrayed his friends also, but he had never truly identified other Death Eaters as friends… not really, not even Lucius; the blond man had merely found a _use_ for an association with Severus.

The dark man's conscience squirmed again, he had turned on those who trusted him… Shacklebolt and Moody for starters, and although Severus had not actually killed Moody personally (Bellatrix had taken that honour), he _was_ responsible for the success of both the attacks. As far as those Order members were concerned, their final moments were made all the worse by their belief that he had betrayed them. They died thinking Severus had indeed returned to the Dark side, believing Severus had worked to bring down the Headmaster and thrust the Dark Lord closer to eradicating the Light side's only hope of a victory, by destroying Harry Potter. If only he could have explained. The dark cloud pressed a little closer in on Severus at that moment.

A few hours later the dark man watched stealthily from the shadows. Severus could not believe the Order could be so sloppy, to allow another member to roam the country side unaccompanied and unprotected, when it was obvious the Death Eaters were picking them off one by one. True, they had no inclination who would be the next target, but to put themselves at further risk seemed rash and disorganised. The Order's normally intelligent, insightful planning and guarded operating appeared to have fallen apart. The loss of Dumbledore was clearly evident.

The dark man watched as the young woman entered the building. Her pink hair standing out clearly in the dimly lit street. 'At least the casualties will be minimised,' Severus thought somewhat comforted, as he had specifically chosen this moment because the regular occupants of the house (the Witch's relatives) were not currently present.

Severus signalled the attack with an almost inconspicuous wave of his hand.

The Death Eaters descended upon the house immediately, bursting through the front door, startling the woman who instinctively withdrew her wand in a blur. Within the first few seconds she had managed to petrify Henderson and disarm Alecto, summoning the female Death Eater's wand with lightening fast reflexes.

"Ex-pelliarmus!" the woman yelled for the second time, slamming Alecto against the wall, where she slid down it and did not move.

Clumsy she may be, thought Severus, impressed, entering the building last behind Wormtail, but she had graduated Auror training for a reason, she was indeed very good under pressure.

Ducking a series of attacks from Pettigrew, she eventually dived behind a couch for cover. She popped her head out at one end to quickly fire off a shot at both men advancing upon her. Wormtail, tipping over the kitchen table with the flick of his wand, took cover behind it. Severus stepped quickly behind an open door to avoid the attack, but did not fail to register the look of terror on the young woman's face as she recognised him.

Wormtail aimed another curse at the woman, this time making contact on an exposed upper arm. She yelped in pain as Severus noticed blood splatter the wall behind her. He heard her swear loudly as the seriousness of her situation became apparent.

"You filthy swine, Snape!" she yelled out, the shudder in her voice did not go astray. "You will not get what you came for!"

"Nymphadora, there is no need for such accusations, what is it you think I want?" Snape inquired smoothly, a nasty tone marring the effect of the gentle chastising.

The woman took the opportunity to fire another series of curses and jinxes at the concealed men, for all the good that it did.

Wormtail deftly returned her attack, Nymphadora having to once again duck for cover.

Severus sent a stunning curse her way as well, though ensured it was badly aimed. Wormtail would not notice his inaccuracy, not at this stage. Though, with regret, he could not see how the woman would escape, even with his feigned bad aim. Wormtail would eventually hit his intended mark and with both men blocking the exits, there was nowhere she could retreat. The house was a wizard dwelling and was invariably protected by Anti-Apparition charms, as Nymphadora obviously knew, not having attempted to Disapparate to safety.

After another attempt to dislodge one of the men from her escape route, and another return of fire from Wormtail, Nymphadora went quiet, slumping to the floor unmoving.

'It is over,' Severus thought, he closed his eyes behind the door, resting his head back against the wall momentarily. The young Witch would not avoid the cruel torture and eventual death that was to come. When he stepped out from his barricade, he noticed Wormtail cautiously approaching the fallen Auror. As the rat like man rounded the edge of the couch, flicking her wand away with his foot, he kicked her leg to determine any sign of consciousness. Wormtail turned his head to Severus with a nasty smirk on his face.

"Not much sport, Snape, I expected much more of a challenge from Bellatrix's niece," he simpered, an ugly expression on his face, turning back to look at the girl on the floor. Suddenly the woman's quick reflexes took Wormtail by surprise, she lifted her arm, stupefied the unprepared Death Eater with the second hidden wand she had secured from the female Death Eater. She then scrambled to the end of the couch to get herself out of the remaining Wizard's line of fire.

Severus took no chances this time, he sent a disarming spell followed by a binding spell directly at the young woman, securing her immediately the wand was shot out of her hand.

The dark man took in the state of his fellow Death Eaters, all unconscious. His stomach gave a lurch, turning back to the bound girl he approached her quickly, crouching at her side. She leaned away from him in disgust, though resigning herself to her defeat, not struggling against her bonds.

"I do not have much time, Nymphadora. I will not hurt you, but you must trust me," Severus insisted.

Nymphadora looked at him with hatred permeating her features, "I will not tell you anything," she spat angrily at him.

Severus ignored her response, withdrawing the small vials of potion he had kept within his robes.

"This is the Draft of Living Death, Nymphadora… take it and you will live."

She looked at him with astonishment, "I will not take your _poison_," she responded defiantly after she recovered from the initial shock.

Severus continued, still ignoring her responses, "I will place the antidote in your hand, hidden. Before you take the first, send an urgent message for assistance to Lupin, when he locates you he will discover the antidote and administer it to you. I will draw the Death Eaters away, I will tell them you sent for back-up and they will arrive imminently."

Nymphadora looked as though she were going to respond again, but Severus interceded, "Nymphadora, there isn't much time… listen."

The woman closed her mouth. Severus put his hand on her arm and felt her try to shrink from his touch, she was shaking badly. He looked into her eyes, "You must be dead for all appearances sake… I am close, Nymphadora."

The woman narrowed her eyes in suspicion, "Close… close to what?"

"I do not have time to explain… you must trust me," he urged.

"Snape, I cannot trust you, you have murdered so many," she said with anguish in her voice, a shuddering breath escaping from her mouth, "How can I recognise the truth from you? What if this is a trap… for Remus?" she blurted, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Severus pondered her question, it was true, how could he expect her to trust him?

"I could have killed you already if I wanted to, this is your only chance," he said, expressing the only thing he could think of to convince her.

The female Death Eater stirred against the wall. Severus released the young woman from her binds with his wand, holding out her own wand to her.

"You can only trust your instincts, Nymphadora, but know if they revive," indicating to the fallen Death Eaters, "I cannot help you any longer," he answered bluntly.

"You know how I feel about him... about Remus, Snape, I cannot risk it," she responded fearfully, taking the wand he held out apprehensively.

In frustration, Severus ran his fingers through his hair, "I do not need your death on my conscience," he said, taking a deep breath. "They _will _kill you... or I will need to... but not before you suffer, Nymphadora. It is not a trap, I cannot convince you of this now, but I will offer you a gesture. You will find my most prized possession at Seventy-seven Cauldron Lane, Hogsmeade… Tonks… trust me... save yourself!" he urged again, imploring her believe.

Startled at his use of her preferred name (her surname), the young Auror stared at Severus. He had never previously addressed her as _Tonks_, always electing to needle her with her disliked first name. Her eyes were wide and fearful, though Severus thought he saw a glimmer of hope spark in their depths.

"What are you talking about, Snape? What-" she began, searching for answers… evidence.

"We do not have time now, send the message, take the Draft. You will discover answers to your questions at Cauldron Lane. Do it now, Nymphadora!" Severus pressed her urgently.

In an instant, the young Auror made up her mind, "Do not let them take my body, Snape. Whatever happens, do not let them take me," she said pleadingly, then sent the request for assistance via her non-verbal patronus.

She took the pale pink coloured potion vial from Severus, uncorking it, with one last look of pleading and hoping that she was making the right decision, she allowed the dark man to place his arm around her shoulders and she emptied the liquid into her mouth and swallowed, Severus pocketing the empty vial she handed him.

In the few moments it took for the potion to take effect Severus looked into her eyes. "Nymphadora, you have made the right decision, and remember, you must remain dead to the eyes of the world or I will not be able to get the information required to end the war."

The young woman's face turned as white as a sheet, "I do not know why I have trusted you, Snape, but... please... do not have made a fool of me," she begged, closing her eyes as the potion sent her into barely an existence.

Severus caught her as she went limp, "You are no fool," he said quietly, then cradling her head in his other hand, he pressed his lips against her temple in a soft kiss. "Be gentle with Phoebe..." he appealed to her at a whisper, then lowered her carefully to the floor. With care he pushed the antidote into her hand and folded her fingers over it so it could not be seen. He was breathing heavily, he ran his hands over his face, then directed his wand at each of the Death Eaters in turn. They could not be discovered at the scene.

"Enervate," he chanted clearly. They regained consciousness and he took charge, tossing over Alecto's wand to her, explaining that they needed to leave immediately as the girl had managed to send off a distress message before Severus was able to dispose of her. He spat his displeasure at not having had the time to question the Auror, sending an accusatory glare at Wormtail.

When Wormtail began to argue, he shot him a venomous look, "I will gladly present you to the rescuers, Wormtail, you incompetent fool. They will be in just the mood to deal with the murderer of their colleague," he snarled, pointing his wand at the other's heart.

"Let us be gone, now! They will be here any second!" Severus ordered, indicating with a sideways flick of his head that they should leave quickly. "No, leave the girl, there is no time!" he barked, as Wormtail was just stooping down to check on the condition of their target. With a quick glance at the victim, he must have been satisfied that she was indeed dead, as within seconds Wormtail was following the other Death Eaters from the house, Severus swooping out behind him after taking one last look at the apparent lifeless body of Nymphadora Tonks. He Disapparated as soon as he was beyond the boundaries of the charm, hoping that Lupin would discover and use the antidote carefully hidden within the young woman's hand. What did he have to lose? If she was truly dead, no potion would harm her further. Severus prayed that Lupin would see the logic in this.

Severus knew he would pay for his failure. He had no doubt he would be punished for not discovering any pertinent information from the young Auror and for not retrieving her body for the Dark Lord to confirm her demise, as was expected and had happened with the others (their cruel leader was still somewhat distrustful), but he felt no fear just now, only a rare, fleeting moment of triumph. He set his personal defences, lifted his chin and steeled himself to endure… or in a peculiar way, defiantly _welcome_ the Dark Lord's wrath…


	20. Chapter 20  Most Prized Possession

The search for answers and evidence...

Pretty please review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Chapter 20**_ - Most Prized Possession_

Moments after the final Death Eater had Disapparated, another figure, tall and a little dishevelled, Apparated into the shadows just down the street. He cautiously approached the house from which the distress message had been sent. A further _pop_ of another Wizard appearing on the street broke the silence. The first man looked back appreciatively at the second, beckoning him forward.

"Arthur, this does not look good," he breathed, indicating that the house door was ajar.

"Have faith, Remus. We may still find her alive. Let's go in," the second tall, red haired man answered, hoping his words were encouraging.

"It could be a trap," Remus suggested, apprehensively.

"Tonks would not send for help if we would be endangered, you know she wouldn't," responded Arthur, "but I have got your back, we will be careful. Let's go."

Feeling slightly more at ease, Remus approached and entered through the door. Checking every possible place a Death Eater could be concealed, both men made their way through the house until they reached the sitting room. It became apparent very quickly that there had been a brutal struggle within the house, with belongings destroyed and furniture up-ended.

Remus first noticed the blood splatter on the wall behind the couch, gasping as he struggled with his fear of the young Auror's fate.

As he entered the room more fully he finally saw her, lying unmoving on the floor. His heart felt like it froze in his chest, shuddering breaths overwhelming him.

Arthur grasped the untransformed werewolf by the shoulder as he too saw the woman's body prone on the floor. Remus shrugged off the comforting hand and approached the girl, kneeling beside her.

"Tonks… she ... she mustn't have had a chance," he stammered, as the initial shock subsided enough for him to talk. The first tear falling from his eye, rolling unheeded down his cheek.

The red haired man bowed his head, shaking it gently and swallowing his own grief. Remus did not need his sorrow, he needed his support just now. The young woman had not made a secret of the feelings she had held for the tall werewolf, and it was common knowledge that he reciprocated those feelings even though he'd not allowed a relationship to develop. He'd felt the young woman deserved a whole, young man, one her own age, not one constantly passed over because of his affliction. Arthur could see the ache welling inside Remus.

"They did not take her, why did they not take her?" Remus asked, distraught, though a little bewildered, as he reached to gently lift her limp body and hold her to his chest.

Arthur could only shake his head and shrug, he did not know why.

The movement of Remus lifting Tonks' body dislodged the small bottle hidden within her hand. It rolled off her palm, tinkling softly as it fell to the tiles at the end of the rug.

The faint sound attracted Arthur's attention and he stooped to retrieve the object from the floor, examining the small vial. He uncorked the potion and inhaled the scent. It was not one he recognised.

"What is this?" he asked, "it was hidden in her handed," Arthur's tone indicating his confusion but highlighting the potential of what the discovery meant.

Remus took the vial from the red headed man, rolling it within his fingers. "An… antidote," he dared to utter, his breath increasing immediately.

Both men looked down at the woman, could it be possible, was she not really... dead.

"Could it be a poison?" Arthur asked, needing to voice the obvious concern.

"No," Remus said, shaking his head, "if whoever did this had wanted to kill Tonks, they would have done it on the spot. No, it wouldn't be a poison. And if she is really already…dead," the word stuck in the tall man's throat, but a moment later he was able to continue, "then it cannot harm her any further."

Remus looked to Arthur for confirmation of his theory, "What do you think? Should I give it to her?"

The red headed man looked expectant, "I have to agree, yes, it is worth a try," he consented, nodding, "give it to her."

Remus eyed the vial a moment longer and then tilted back the young woman's head emptying the clear contents into her mouth. He gently massaged her throat so the potion made its way into her stomach. Both men waited with baited breath for several moments.

The colour appeared to return to Tonks' face and suddenly she choked on the excess potion still in her throat. She swallowed, coughing which prompted her first breath, her eyes flicking open. At first her eyes showed no comprehension, then she focused on Remus' face and smiled a small weak smile at the man holding her.

"Oh, Merlin, you did it… thank you," she said with relief, her voice hoarse, throwing her arms around Remus' neck. He held her close to him, expressing his gratitude at the miracle of the woman's survival out loud.

"Who did this... what happened, Tonks?" asked Arthur, baffled as to how Tonks had come to be, by all appearances dead, but was revived by a potion hidden within her hand. Someone else must have done this to her… but who... why?

"It was Snape, Arthur," she responded, closing her eyes again momentarily, "Snape gave me the potion."

Both men gasped, "Snape?!" they said in unison.

"Yes," Tonks answered, "he had these vials in his robes. The first one he told me was the Draft of Living Death… the second the antidote."

"Why?" asked Remus, suspicious, "what's the point, what happened?"

"I was ambushed, Snape and three other Death Eaters burst through the door. They would have killed me. I managed to knock out two of them fairly quickly, but then I was cornered by the other two. Pettigrew was one of them, he did this," she said, showing both men her injured arm, then she continued, "Pettigrew and Snape were blocking the exits, I was trapped. I thought the only way I was going to get out of this was to play dead and trick them into moving away from the exits. It nearly worked, but Snape was too quick for me. He bound me with ropes."

"He tied you up?" asked Arthur, confused.

"Yes, but then when he realised he was the only one conscious, he offered me the potion and told me to send a message for you to help me. He said I had to continue to pretend to be dead after you found me." Tonks looked at both men, "He almost pleaded for me to trust him, told me he didn't want my death on his conscience," she said almost apologetically.

"It could have been a trap," Remus accused.

"But it wasn't," Tonks defended, "I don't know why I believed him, I just sensed it was right... and we didn't have much time."

Suddenly the young woman remembered Snape's gesture. "He told me the location of his most prized possession, as a gesture of good faith... he insisted this was not a trap. It was a risk, I know, but I took the chance and… well... I'm glad I did. He kept his word... I lived."

"This man has murdered more than a few of our colleagues, Tonks. You should not have trusted him," Remus said, frustrated at Tonks' reckless judgement.

Tonks glared at him, "I would be dead right now if it hadn't been for Snape… he gave me a chance... I would not have made it out of here alive otherwise," she snapped, pulling herself out of the man's arms and sitting up.

Arthur interceded as he saw the situation getting out of hand, Remus opening his mouth to retort. "We haven't made it out of here yet," the red haired man pointed out, "perhaps we should leave right now."

"You'll have to carry me out… I have to be seen to be dead. Whatever Snape is planning, if I don't follow through I could ruin it all," Tonks explained.

"Whatever Snape is up to!" snapped an angry and frustrated Remus.

Tonks frowned at him, "Don't cast judgement yet, Remus. Wait to see what is at the address," she implored.

"Where… where is this place?" the tall man asked, helping the young witch to stand.

Tonks looked for all the world as though she were physically trying to answer the question, but no words would come. After her second attempt she realised, "It must be protected by the Fidelus Charm, I cannot speak the location, Snape must have been the Secret Keeper. You must see that this has to be valid, Remus," she insisted.

"Enough!" asserted Arthur. "No more until we are away from here," he pressed, "if you are to be dead, Tonks, then you should start acting like it. Pick her up Remus, you carry her, I shall cover us all," he said, holding his wand ahead of him as he moved toward the door.

Pushing his wand into his sleeve for easy access, Remus lifted Tonks and she relaxed in his arms, appearing limp and lifeless.

They cautiously entered the street, and both men, Remus with his burden and Arthur watchful, Disapparated as soon as they had crossed the boundary of the anti-Apparition charm. As promised by Severus, there was no trap.

Several days later, and not for a lack of trying, Remus finally conceded he was not going to persuade the young witch that visiting the location of Snape's possession was a bad idea and agreed, against his better judgement, to accompany Tonks to the address Snape had told her.

Tonks, being a metamorphmagus, was able to change her appearance at will and had done so for the excursion. The woman had previously been hiding at the Burrow (the nickname given to the Weasley family's home). The Ministry of Magic had been informed of her death and the appropriate Death Notices had appeared in the Daily Prophet, accompanied by sensational headlines about the Death Eaters' vicious insurgence.

Remus had ensured, at Tonks' request, that the newspaper had included in the story, that the discovery of her body without its usual mutilations had been due to the fact that Tonks had managed to send off a distress message before her murder, and the Death Eaters must have been scared away before they could abscond with her remains.

Fortunately during these times of turmoil, they had not been required to prove their testimony to the Ministry and had been left to proceed with the burial, undisturbed. Tonks' family had been informed of her death and the only others who had been told of the true circumstances had been Molly Weasley and her family. They were all warned of the importance of Tonks' death charade, although the details of how and who were kept confidential between Tonks, Lupin and Arthur.

Now standing in the middle of Cauldron Lane, watching a hooded Tonks approach a seemingly non-existent house, Remus felt very uneasy and completely useless, and even though they had agreed on an emergency plan, as Lupin could not physically enter the house, it was by most accounts pointless.

As the young Witch passed over the threshold of the property, she disappeared from view, as if an invisibility cloak had just been dropped over her head. He heard her knock on the unseen door more than once, but eventually it was opened.

**P**hoebe, realising that Erlin was absent from the cottage again (she must ask him where he went at these times and what he was doing), opened the door expecting it to be Severus again. The only other person who had called at the cottage had been Dumbledore, and Phoebe had come to the conclusion that no-one else had been granted access. Severus had told her that others would only be able to see the cottage and enter if they had been told the address by the Secret Keeper personally, which in this case was Severus, and Phoebe felt he would have told her if anyone else had been given the address by him. So, needless to say, she was more than shocked to discover it was someone else, someone unknown.

She quickly tried to slam the door shut, but it was too late, the hooded Witch had forced her way through the door and was advancing on Phoebe as she backed away from the wand thrust in her face.

"Where has Snape hidden it?" the Witch demanded of Phoebe, "he said I would find it here.'

Phoebe was too stunned to answer as she continued to retreat from the threatening woman. She managed to manoeuvre herself so that the couch was between herself and the Witch.

"Where is it!?" the Witch said louder this time.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" Phoebe blurted out, her heart pounding in her chest.

"The thing he has hidden here…" the woman snapped, "he told me he had his most prized possession here. Show me where!" she forcefully snarled her demand.

"There isn't anything here... he has not hidden anything here," Phoebe answered, not quite truthfully, knowing full well that _she_ was the _thing_ that was hidden. But this woman was not after a _person_, she was looking for an _object_ and Phoebe was not about to set her straight and offer herself up to this stranger.

Losing her patience, the Witch stepped onto and over the couch to approach closer to Phoebe. In her attempt to avoid the imposing Witch, Phoebe backed into the hall way, trying to maintain a substantial distance between herself and the woman. But the Witch just followed her all the way down the hall, closing the gap with each stride. Phoebe took a dash into the bedroom, managing to slam and lock the door behind her, though the door was easily unlocked with the Witch's wand and she menacingly forced Phoebe into the corner with her hand pushing roughly on Phoebe's shoulder and holding the wand at her throat.

"Where is it!" she snarled again. "I will find it, you know, even if I have to rip this place apart," she added visciously.

"There is nothing to find," Phoebe sobbed, becoming truly frightened by the Witch.

Looking at her curiously, the woman backed off a little, then she looked Phoebe up and down. "Where is your wand?" she asked.

"I-I don't have one," Phoebe answered, her voice trembling.

Narrowing her eyes, the Witch queried, "Are you... a Muggle?"

Phoebe nodded, her breath shuddering with fear.

The Witch reached out and grabbed Phoebe by her shirt at her collar bone and began to pull her away from the wall. Instinctively Phoebe placed a protective hand over her unborn baby.

The woman noticed her action, and looked at Phoebe in alarm, dropping the hold on her shirt.

"Oh, Merlin... you're pregnant?" she remarked, shocked. The Witch just stood there aghast for several moments, the cogs falling into place within her mind.

"It's you… you're his most prized possession?" she inquired, astonished. Suddenly something vague was triggered within her memory, "Phoebe… be gentle with Phoebe," the woman muttered softly, "it… is that you? You... you are Phoebe, aren't you?" she asked.

Phoebe nodded, "Yes," she said, meekly.

"And... this is _his_ child… this is Snape's baby," she said, reaching out to touch Phoebe's belly.

Phoebe gasped and backed out of the woman's reach. The Witch looked at Phoebe's face in surprise, then seeing the fear in Phoebe's eyes, she gave her a reassuring look, backing away so as not to appear threatening.

"No... Phoebe, I mean you no harm," she said, shaking her head, "you don't have to be afraid. You aren't hurt are you, I haven't hurt you, have I?" she added, concerned.

"No," Phoebe answered, quietly, shaking her head, "I am not hurt."

The Witch reached up and lowered her hood, "I am Tonks," she said, introducing herself to Phoebe, then breathing a sigh, obviously still a little stunned. "This is... difficult to believe… Snape... and a Muggle, who would have thought?" she remarked quietly. "I'm so confused, why has he done this?" she asked, though the question was not really directed at Phoebe.

Phoebe wanted to know the answer to that question too. Why had Severus revealed the location of the safe-house to a woman who clearly had no idea what he had been trying to keep safe? Why had he exposed Phoebe to her, where was he, and what had happened between himself and the woman standing in front of Phoebe?

"Done what?" she asked instead.

"He saved my life," Tonks said, looking directly at Phoebe, "they came to kill me... and instead of finishing me off, he gave me a chance. I refused to believe him... he has killed others before me... so... I thought it was probably a trap. That was when he told me about this place, he said I would find his most prized possession here… and that I would find answers to my ... questions." Tonks' expression showed a change from confusion to understanding.

"You know… you know what he is doing, don't you?" Tonks asked Phoebe.

Phoebe became nervous again, "I only know what he has told me," she blurted.

"Why did he betray the Order? Why did he murder Dumbledore?" Tonks questioned firmly.

"You are a member of the Order?" Phoebe asked in response, surprised.

"Yes, tell me... please," appealed Tonks.

"Show me your arms," Phoebe demanded, knowing that if this woman was a Death Eater, the proof would be burned onto her arm.

Tonks offered her arms to Phoebe, a little perplexed. Phoebe turned them over to reveal the inner forearm, pushing up her robe sleeves. There was no trace of the Dark Mark at all, on either arm. Satisfied, Phoebe let them go.

"He has not changed sides, he is still working for the Order," Phoebe declared.

"But... he murdered-"

Phoebe cut her off, she knew what Tonks was going to say. "He did not _murder_ Dumbledore."

"Harry saw him-" Tonks started to say.

"Harry was there? Severus did not tell me that," Phoebe responded.

"Snape would not have known, I was told Harry was under his invisibility cloak," Tonks disclosed. "Harry said Snape murdered Dumbledore, he would not lie!"

"He saw Severus kill him, yes, but it was not murder. Dumbledore ordered him to do it… there was a plan."

"A plan… what was the plan?" Tonks asked, appealing to Phoebe to reveal the mystery.

"I don't know the details... I only know what he told me. He said he'd been forced to make an Unbreakable Vow and that there was no way out of it except to kill Dumbledore. Dumbledore needed him to remain as a spy, so… the Headmaster sacrificed himself. Severus is trying to help Harry somehow," Phoebe explained.

Tonks looked astonished. "You obviously believe him..." she said to Phoebe.

"I don't understand all of it, and I didn't believe at first, but... if you could only see what he is putting himself through. He was such a mess when I last saw him, he is being forced to do such horrible things. Emotionally, he is barely hanging on by a thread. So… yes, I believe him," Phoebe announced, scarcely holding back threatening tears.

Tonks sighed, looking away from Phoebe, "He told me he was close. Close to getting information to help end the war. He must have been talking about helping Harry."

"You must tell Harry to trust him, he is trying to help, I swear it!" Phoebe implored.

"Harry _hates_ Snape, I don't know if I could convince him of that," explained Tonks, shaking her head.

Phoebe suddenly felt exhausted, "Those bloody two, it seems to me that the future rests on both their shoulders, but neither feels the other is worthy... when are they going to realise they are both on the same side? I can't do this any more," Phoebe announced, agitated, "they'll just have to work it out for themselves."

Phoebe rubbed her hand over her _bump_, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, the stress causing her to feel an uncomfortable tightness all over.

"Are you okay?" inquired Tonks, worried.

"I'm just so tired," Phoebe answered, emotionally.

"This is not good for you or your baby, you shouldn't be involved in this," said Tonks, "you should rest. I shall go now… there is someone waiting outside for me anyway. I will do what I can to make things go smoothly between Harry and Snape, okay."

Phoebe nodded in appreciation at the young witch.

"If Snape wants to know, he will find me at _The Burrow_," Tonks added. "And Phoebe… he saved my life.. I trust him too - let him know that for me if you see him. And tell him - thankyou." With that Tonks turned and left the bedroom, Phoebe heard the snap of the front door as the witch closed it behind her.


	21. Chapter 21  Raising the Stakes

Severus is holding a heavy weight, there are bound to be times when he fumbles and nearly drops the load...

Please review!!! All you recognise a JK's is hers and hers alone, I'm only playing with her world.

**Chapter 21**_ - Raising the Stakes_

Severus was still shaking an hour later. The punishment had been severe... extended. It had hurt, but in a way it was worth it, his conscience was spared, he knew it would have hurt more if he'd had to kill her. He had returned to Spinner's End to rest, and was now lying on his bed in his bedroom, it had been a long night; though sleep evaded him.

He wondered if Lupin had discovered the potion within Nymphadora's hand and whether he had recognised it as the antidote it was. No doubt he would find out eventually. She would inevitably visit Seventy-seven Cauldron Lane if she was alive. Severus frowned, he had only given her the safe-house address in desperation for her to trust him, now he wasn't sure he had made an intelligent decision. Nymphadora was an Order member and an Auror, she could do real damage if she felt threatened. Would she realise that Phoebe was a Muggle before the Witch hurt her? If Phoebe seemed uncooperative it was possible the Witch could get carried away in her frustration to find answers to her questions, after all Nymphadora had no idea it was Phoebe herself that was the _possession_ hidden.

Severus would call on Phoebe as soon as he was able, he decided, he needed to know if she was alright.

The dark man used his Occlumency skills to block out his whirling thoughts. He needed to sleep, the Dark Lord had another task for him to accomplish. This one would be difficult, he would need to be rested.

A number of days had passed before a plan had been devised, this would require a certain amount of luck if it were to be achieved without too many casualties. Timing would be everything. Severus didn't like his chances, even though the Dark side had a healthy quantity of volunteers for such missions, the quality was still sadly lacking. But then, that was the point of this particular task, wasn't it? A number of more valuable Death Eaters were currently being held in Azkaban, Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange for starters. Cruel, calculating and far more talented than the likes of Peter Pettigrew. For once, it seemed, the Dark Lord had heeded Severus' excuse for his latest failure, although he still did not refrain from punishing, but agreed that their future offences would be more successful with Lucius and Rodolphus back within the fold.

This fact did not thrill Severus at all. He knew he would have to endure their challenge for the right to be Second to the Dark Lord, it would no doubt irk them that he, a man several years their junior, and having had a reputation from their school days as being their _lap-dog_, would rise beyond them within the Dark Lord's ranks. Though mostly he knew it would mean the end to any hope he had of helping any future Order victims. Lucius and Rodolphus would never make such monumental mistakes as Wormtail had done.

Also, with the doubt Narcissa and possibly Bellatrix would cast on his loyalty, he was certain that he would be forced to perform many of the murders and torture personally… Lucius would ensure it, he would be watched very closely.

In fact the only up side Severus could see was that if he was successful in freeing Rodolphus, the advances from Bellatrix would cease. He would not need to prove his willingness to act on her, rapidly becoming not so subtle, invitations.

Severus looked over at the dark haired woman, she was to be included in the prison assault contingent. She was bent over the blueprint plans of the building which were spread out on the table in his kitchen, finetuning the impending scheme.

"There," she finally announced, pointing to an area on the plans, "that's the cell block they will be held in."

"You are sure, Bellatrix?" Severus inquired.

"Yes, I am sure. There is extra protection on these cells, and with the Dementors no longer guarding Azkaban, most of the prisoners will be held in this block. It was usually reserved for the most vicious…" she said, then looking up directly into Severus' eyes, "I should know… that is where I was held," she added, with a cruel sneer.

"Boasting, are we?" retorted Severus, his own sneer firmly in place.

Bellatrix snorted in amusement, smirking at Severus, "Jealous?"

"Hardly, Bellatrix. I much preferred my quarters at Hogwarts," Severus quipped.

"I was talking about my reputation, Snape," Bellatrix jibed, maintaining his gaze.

"Hhmmph," responded Severus, "I assure you, Bellatrix, my... _reputation_ is observed with much... reverence.'

"Oh I bet it is," she said smoothly, moving around the table toward him, pressing herself up against his body. "I am sure... it is..." she whispered to him, her face close to his.

Severus narrowed his eyes at her, "What is it you want with me, Bellatrix?"

"Oh, Snape, I hardly think you haven't worked that out yet!" she answered, her voice soft.

"Rodolphus will be returned to you soon, I scarcely think he will be impressed," Severus responded.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," Bellatrix said, sweetly.

"I will not be _used_, Bellatrix," insisted Severus, with an edge to his voice.

Bellatrix looked scandalised, she placed her hand on his arm, kneading gently with her fingers on the muscles of his upper arm, "I doubt you will be in danger of that, Severus… you've always seemed to be in control... of your own decisions," she drawled, seductively walking her fingers up his arm.

"So you wish to begin… something, still?" he asked, indicating between the two of them.

"Of course, you are much more than just a… distraction."

Severus felt irritated, he assumed the woman would cease the advances altogether, but now it seemed she was stepping up the pressure. It was a risk Severus was loathed to take with the woman's husband soon to be released from Azkaban. Now Severus would need to deal with Rodolphus personally if the affair were to be discovered. It seemed in every direction Severus turned the stakes were being raised.

Using the frustration he felt, he seized the woman in front of him roughly, leaning in to kiss her but stopping just millimetres from her lips, "Are you sure this is what you want, Bellatrix?" he whispered, brusquely, "I will have... certain... expectations of my own," he continued, seeing the surprise and momentary fear in the woman's eyes that quickly turned to excitement.

"I can handle you, Severus," she said snidely, her breath coming faster.

Severus closed the gap and kissed Bellatrix fiercely. He did not hold back, he could not if he was to convince her, but he did sense a certain reserve from her. So, it was as he had thought, she was testing him! 'Well,' he thought savagely, 'how far will she let me take this?' How far would he have to go before she relented and left him alone?

He let his hand wander down to her breast, caressing the tender flesh perhaps a little over zealously. Bellatrix gasped at his heavy handed touch, backing away a little. Severus put his hand around her back and drew her back to him, kissing her feverishly once more. Once the witch relaxed into his embrace again she countered his eagerness, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Severus took this as his cue to push the point a little, unfastening her robes at the chest, kissing down her neck to her now exposed breasts. He pushed her back against the table and she perched herself on the very edge of it. He reached down under her robes to lift one of her legs up by her thigh, to around his hip.

Bellatrix froze a little, a small shudder escaping with her breath.

Mercilessly, Severus began to reach even further under her robes for her underwear.

"Let's take this a little slower," she suggested, stopping his hand on her thigh, her voice shaking the tiniest bit.

"I do not think so," Severus pressed, driven by his frustration and torment, forcing his hand past hers tearing at the fabric of her undergarments.

"No," Bellatrix said, trying to push him backwards, but Severus refused to relent, forcing her backwards down onto the table. "Stop!" she screeched.

"But this is what you wanted, isn't it," he growled at her, reaching to undo his own trousers as she continued to struggle beneath him.

"NO!" she yelled, "get off me!" She kicked out savagely with her legs, eventually connecting with one, striking him on his thigh, pushing him back slightly, which was enough to allow her to scramble from the table and out of his grasp. "You bastard!" she accused, seething, reaching for her wand inside her robes.

Severus lunged at her catching her by her right wrist preventing her retrieving her wand. She whipped her other hand around lightening fast and slapped him hard across his face. It stung, he recoiled slightly, holding his free hand to his cheek where she had made contact. When he pulled his hand away, he saw blood. Fury surging throughout his entire body, he pulled her toward him and grabbed her left hand, holding it out flat in front of him. Her wedding rings were both turned in toward her palm, she had cut him with her diamond engagement ring. He was absolutely livid, furiously entertaining thoughts of all kinds of retaliation in his mind… but then…

'Enough… that's enough!' Severus thought to himself, barely maintaining control, coaxing himself to calm down. His reasoning was thankfully taking over, he could not allow this situation to deteriorate any further.

"You filthy whore!" he snapped angrily through gritted teeth, flinging her hands, that he still held, away from him. "Get out!" he snarled dangerously, taking a step toward her in a menacing fashion.

Bellatrix did not need telling twice, not taking her eyes off the man she snatched her travelling cloak off the back of the chair where she had draped it upon arrival, swinging it over her as she exited through the front door, slamming it behind her.

Severus walked over to the bookcase in the small sitting room, which concealed the stairs, opening it and stepping lightly up the flight of stairs, he turned at the top and made his way into the bathroom. After examining his cut in the mirror, he looked at his face. His features were still suffused in hated. It was no surprise, Severus thought, he hated himself right now. He had never in his life treated a lady so appallingly. But then he scoffed at the thought - Bellatrix was no lady - and at least now there was a probability that the woman would leave him alone. He did not need _this_ to deal with on top of everything else.

Severus drew his wand and healed the cut on his cheek. It was over, but he was still so worked up, he felt such anger and frustration. He closed his eyes and forced his thoughts to drift to Phoebe. How he longed to feel her arms around him now, comforting and supportive, she had a way of making him feel calm... unencumbered… contented. He wanted to feel like that again... now!

He turned on his heel and made his way back down the stairs. He would go to her... he wanted her... needed her.

Severus knocked on the cottage door, the house-elf answered, letting Severus in, moving to the side to allow the tall Wizard to pass by.

"Phoebe!" Severus called out, needing to see her desperately.

"I'm here, Severus," Phoebe responded from behind him at the window. "Are you okay, what's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

She walked toward him, but he swiftly covered far more ground than she with his long strides approaching her. When he reached her, he embraced her tightly allowing her warmth to seep through him.

"I am okay," he said quietly in her ear, then added in the privacy of his own thoughts, 'I just needed to feel your arms around me.' He turned his face toward hers, feeling her warm breath on his neck, nuzzling her cheek with his own and kissing her gently. It felt so good to hold her. Better than he ever thought it could.

"Something has happened… I can tell, Severus," Phoebe announced, "are you sure you are alright?" She leaned back slightly and glanced at his face.

"Yes, it is nothing," he answered, with a small nod of his head, though he noticed a dubious expression on her face. But he _was_ alright now though, now that he was here. "What about you, are you... alright?' he asked Phoebe in return.

"Yes, Severus, I am fine," she responded, maintaining an appraising eye on the man.

"Did Nymphadora come?" Severus queried, looking into her eyes.

"Who? Do you mean Tonks... the witch from the Order?" Phoebe asked, confused.

"Yes, Nymphadora Tonks is her full name… she has obviously been here. What happened, did she treat you well?" he asked, stroking a hand gently over Phoebe's hair.

Phoebe nodded, "Yes," she said, "once she realised it was _me_ that was hidden, she was quite friendly. Severus… she said you saved her life… is that true?" she asked, a small frown on her face, cupping her own hand on his cheek and running her thumb along his cheek bone.

Severus took her hand away from his face, but he did not let her hand from his grasp. "I was able to prevent her from being murdered, it was mostly luck... she was lucky," he answered, not allowing himself to take credit for the events.

Phoebe was looking at him with what seemed like admiration. It made him feel a little uncomfortable, he did not deserve it.

"I am so proud of you," she gushed.

"Do not be," he responded sourly, now dropping her hand, "others have not been so... fortunate."

"Don't do this, Severus. You are in a difficult position, I know this... but Tonks has _her_ life because of you. You know, she asked me to tell you _thankyou_, and to let you know... she trusts you."

"I am glad she lived," he said succinctly, breathing out a sigh as he did.

Phoebe took his face in her hands and kissed him firmly on his lips. "You are a good man, Severus Snape... and now I am not the _only_ one who knows this," she said, a small smile on her lips.

It seemed to bolster his strength, seeing her pride... her faith in him. This is what he had needed, it was why he had come to her. She knew how to make him remember which side he was fighting for… sometimes the lines would become a little blurred. From the position he was in, things were rarely black or white. He had been forced to do many vile things in the name of the Light side as a means to an end.

This made him remember Bellatrix and what he had very nearly done today. Rape - he would have despised himself (even more than he already did) if he had let things go that far. Spy or no spy, he still had personal standards of behaviour and ethics of his own; many of which had already been crushed or swept aside by the requirements of this _job_, but _never_ for anything as frivolous as a shortcut or to make things easier on himself. Bellatrix's hindrance was not worth compromising his standards, he knew now that he had handled the situation badly. He turned away from the woman offering him comfort and sat on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands.

"Severus," Phoebe said softly, sitting next to him and rubbing her hand over his back, "everything will work out okay."

He knew she had no idea what she was talking about, but it didn't seem to matter, the action and words were soothing nonetheless.

Suddenly the woman gasped, he straightened and looked at her in alarm, she had her hand on her swollen belly. "What is it?" he asked, worried.

"It's okay, don't worry," she answered, reaching for his hand, "your baby just moved. I have been feeling tiny flutterings for the past day or two, but never as strong as this. Here... feel," she said, placing his hand low against her belly, "can you feel it?" she asked.

Severus sat back and twisted in his seat toward her, his hand firmly pressed to her belly by her hand. He moved a little closer to her, resting his forehead against her temple, silently waiting... concentrating. And then he felt it… the tiniest movement, subtle yet most definitely the stirring of his child, he just knew it. He breathed in as he felt it, then sighing out the breath as Phoebe turned her face to his.

"You felt it, didn't you?" she said, more of a statement than a question, a beaming smile on her face.

Severus nodded, he could not speak. It seemed incredible that he be allowed to experience this... joy, this miracle of life. He had long since believed that such an occasion would pass him by. He'd even told himself that he had never desired offspring anyway, and he certainly had never suggested that his teaching position had anything to do with an affection for children. But _this_... feeling _this_ right now... meant something to him. He actually felt a longing. At this moment he _wanted_ this baby… he wanted a child of his own.

Phoebe must have sensed his struggle with his emotions, accepting his limited response, as she pulled him to her and kissed his cheek. Her warm breath was welcoming on his face, he was enjoying her tender touch, another such occurrence he believed would pass him by… knowing the true affection of a woman.

"I have a problem, Severus," she said suddenly, several moments later.

Severus glanced at her face, "A problem?" he asked, with concern.

"Yes, perhaps you have noticed, but... not many of my clothes seem to fit very well these days," Phoebe announced, her cheeks unusually flushed.

A smirk spread across Severus' face, "Indeed," he said, amused.

She looked at him scornfully, but then her expression softened. "Is there anything you can do?" she asked, hopefully.

"Do not worry, there is something I can do," he answered softly, nodding, "and as I believe I am responsible for your _problem_ in the first place," he continued, failing to stifle a small laugh, "I shall be glad to help."

It seemed extraordinary to him that he could laugh, it was such a rare occurrence for him at the best of times, but amongst the brutality of this war Severus had somehow managed to find something so wonderful... so perfect, something to be happy about. He felt lucky…

Though, as he watched her smiling at him, her fondness for him so obvious in her eyes, he knew it was inevitable that his luck would, most probably, run out… eventually.


	22. Chapter 22  Leadership

Severus - Master of manipulation...

Please review... I desperately need the cyber touch of consolation at this shattering time in my HP life...

**Chapter 22**_ - Leadership_

The man left the cottage feeling much calmer. He was starting to wonder if he was becoming dependant on Phoebe, as he had been on Dumbledore. Not in the same way necessarily, but as an outlet for his torment nonetheless. It certainly was more and more tempting to go to her when he was feeling pushed to his limit, as he was becoming accustomed to the calm, soothing sense of relief that came with being in her presence.

He would need to resist this temptation, he decided, her involvement would eventually be a distraction for him. It had also occurred to him that he should not rely on her as, although she seemed more than happy to see him each time, he knew that it must be difficult and upsetting for her to witness his anguish. Her anxiety would not be healthy for herself nor their unborn child.

As he re-entered his house at Spinner's End and sat in the armchair, he closed his eyes, relaxing momentarily, and remembered feeling his baby's movements for the first time. It had been quite exhilarating. He began imagining what it would be like to hold his infant child in his arms. He had never held a new baby before, in fact he had rarely had any contact with any children under the age of eleven. It would be a completely new experience for him, and he was surprised to find he was eager to… well... explore it.

"I expected to find Bellatrix here," came the loathsome voice of Wormtail from the now open staircase doorway.

"She left, as you can obviously see," Severus snapped in response, as he reflexively flicked open his eyes, quickly shut down his personal thoughts and felt the cold walls of his usual defences build up inside himself.

"Well? When can we proceed?" Wormtail impertinently demanded.

"The Northerly wing will be our main strike point. There is extra security... it will need to be disarmed, and we will need to establish the weakness in the new system first," Severus answered, matter of factly, choosing to ignore the rat like man's disrespectful attitude for now.

"How?" the smaller man questioned.

Severus looked unseeing toward the corner of the room, tapping his splayed fingers together in contemplation. "Narcissa. We shall use Narcissa," he finally responded apathetically, lowering his hands, "she has access, and will know the routines, or at the very least can find out," Severus said, turning to Wormtail. "Get me Draco. I need a word with him," he ordered bluntly, a shrewd expression occupying his features.

When Severus was alone again, Wormtail fetching the teenager for questioning, Severus considered how he would repair the damage he had done to the relationship with Bellatrix. He still needed to work with her… and her husband. Not to mention he needed her to quash the suspicions held by Narcissa before either women had suggested them to their spouses. It seemed inevitable that they would eventually mention their distrust, but if there was no basis for the accusation, maybe it would at least buy him some time.

Perhaps, Severus thought, he ought to apologise… but would that be enough? Bellatrix would hardly be forgiving of his forceful tactics by a mere… _sorry_. No, he would need to tread gently with this one, it would take all his cunning and manipulation to return himself to Bellatrix's good graces.

Draco arrived alone within half an hour, Severus observing he still appeared pale and a little gaunt. He beckoned him inside the house, closing the door as he passed over the threshold.

"Where is Wormtail?" Severus queried, looking sharply at Draco.

"I'm not sure, Professor," Draco replied meekly. Severus was relieved to find that since the incidents on the Tower with Dumbledore, Draco seemed to be no longer challenging him, or being disrespectful. The boy even seemed to be acquiescing to Severus' new title as Second in command. It made things easier for Severus, the last thing he needed now was for the boy to resist his leadership. Severus could scarcely help him if he was required to punish Draco himself to maintain authority.

Severus maintained his sharp expression, "I am no longer your Professor, Draco, merely _Sir_ will suffice," he corrected the teenager, bluntly.

"Yes, sir," answered Draco, still quiet.

Looking at Draco appraisingly, Severus clasped his hands together, his index fingers extended to a point at his fingertips, tapping them lightly to his lips.

"Your mother is still visiting your father in Azkaban, is she not?" he asked, tilting his pointed fingers toward the boy briefly.

"Yes, sir, once a week she visits," Draco agreed.

"Good, I will need for her to ascertain certain… facts," Severus said, "when will you see her next, Draco?" he asked.

"I don't know," Draco said, shaking his head, "Mother is being watched most of the time, it is difficult for her to see me, but she has managed from time to time. It is usually only when she has been able to give her tail the slip, she would contact me then," he answered.

"I see," Severus responded, pondering the dilemma. "You will assist me by giving your mother instructions when you see her, Draco. Do you understand?" Severus asked.

"Yes, sir," the teenager replied.

"And you will convey directly to me the results of her task as soon as possible when you receive them," the dark man ordered.

Draco nodded, "Yes, sir," he answered again.

"Sit down," said Severus indicating to the sofa, while he took a seat in an armchair. Severus then explained in detail to Draco the instructions for Narcissa and a list of information required by the Death Eaters about the security at Azkaban.

Draco was sufficiently bright enough to handle the task, Severus knew, his intelligence had never been his vice - no, that had been his overconfidence, his false sense of superiority. Yet assessing the boy now, it did not appear to be a problem any longer. Draco had discovered very quickly that his _pure-blood_ status meant very little within the Dark Lord's ranks, he was not as valuable or indispensable as his parents had brought him up to assume. His blood would not protect him from failure, punishment or even… death. It had been a startling lesson to learn for the teenager.

Severus' duty to protect Draco had been arduous. Many times he had had to step in to prevent Draco from having to perform a vicious act, encouraged gleefully by his Aunt Bellatrix. Though, to Severus' advantage, Draco had proved to be just as resistant to committing the acts as Severus was determined to obstruct them. It had not been a simple exercise though, he had needed to be quite crafty and pull rank on a few occasions, resulting in Bellatrix fuming about his interference. However, Severus had assured her that Draco would gain his experience during the right circumstances - when Severus felt he was ready. He had sensed Draco was grateful for his intervention... perhaps there was some hope for Draco after all.

"My father is being freed?" asked Draco, apprehensively.

Severus gave Draco a sharp look, "Yes, that bothers you?" Severus queried in return.

"You know how he treated me, the expectations he had of me," Draco answered, with a courage Severus was surprised and impressed with.

"I am aware, Draco," Severus responded, calmly, "though there is little to be done about it. It is the Dark Lord's wish that both he and Rodolphus are returned to His side." Severus eyed Draco a little longer, then added a little more gently, "You would do well to fulfil your duty as requested. Leave the rest to me."

Draco gave a small nod.

"You may leave, Draco. I have work to do," Severus commanded, with a small wave of his hand. It was best not to give the boy too much information about how or why Severus would _help_ him. Draco was, after all, Narcissa's son and Bellatrix's nephew, any slip from the boy might hinder Severus' efforts to further deceive the Witches.

The dark man watched Draco out of the corner of his eye as Severus stood and walked into the kitchen, returning to examining the plans that were still open on the table. The boy stood and made his way to the door, turning back to briefly glance at his superior before opening the door and exiting.

Severus' plans could proceed little further until the teenager returned to him with the information, however Severus wanted to be extremely familiar with the premises and have every option of entry and exit precisely detailed within his own mind in case a contingency plan was required on the day. No stone would be left unturned, he studied the blueprints relentlessly for a number of hours after Draco left. It was well into the night when he sat back into the armchair rubbing his fingers over his tired eyes.

Severus turned his head toward the front door when he heard the door nob rattle, reaching habitually for his wand within his robes as he did so. With narrowed eyes he watched as the door opened and admitted Wormtail.

The small man had access to the house as he also called the dwelling _home_ for the time being. Severus had long since suspected that the Dark Lord had placed Wormtail as assistant to Severus over a year ago so Wormtail may _keep an eye_ on him. Dumbledore had determined that Pettigrew was not the threat to the Light side that he appeared to be and had suggested that Peter be allowed to continue to fulfil his suspected duty unhampered and unchallenged alongside Severus, albeit very closely watched by Severus. This was the reason the rest of the Order had not been informed of Pettigrew's involvement and whereabouts. In fact Severus' residence had not ever been revealed to any Order member with the exception of Dumbledore, and this is the reason Severus had managed to remain secure himself whilst on the run from the Ministry of Magic since the events on the Tower at Hogwarts. Nevertheless it had irked him that the _rodent_ continued to share his personal space, he had needed to adapt to being constantly on edge as there was now virtually nowhere Severus could go to completely relax. Well… with the exception of Phoebe's of-course, but he had decided he should not frequent Cauldron Lane without good cause.

"Did you get lost, Wormtail?" Severus jibed nastily, his customary sneer in place.

The small man glowered at him, "No actually, I've just been having a word with Bellatrix," he said, smoothly.

Severus felt the colour drain marginally from his face, but recovered almost immediately. It seemed to Severus that his foundations were becoming more and more unstable as time wore on, one false move and it could all be over. He would need to find out if Wormtail was privy to Narcissa's misgivings. Wormtail, as the Dark Lord's informant, could make things much worse.

"Did you discover anything enlightening?" Severus asked, his voice hard.

Bellatrix is angry. Oddly her anger seems to be directed at you," Wormtail accused. "Are you going to share?" he added in a sickly sweet manner.

"She did not tell you why she is angry?" Severus queried, allowing sarcasm and amusement to lace his voice.

"No, though it is obvious you know why, you can inform me," he said calmly, but it was obvious to Severus that the man was acting with more confidence than he actually felt.

"The woman has difficulty accepting she cannot have exactly what she wants," Severus answered ambiguously, indulging Wormtail just enough to irritate the man.

"Wants… what is it that she wants?" Wormtail asked, pushing the point a little.

Severus eyed the smaller man, "Lets just say I have no desire to be denied what would be due to me, Wormtail," he answered coldly. "Bellatrix was under the misconception that she would be in a position to pull the strings… she discovered, to her detriment, that she was... incorrect," he said smirking, his eyes appearing unfeeling.

"You are being too cryptic, what are you talking about?" Wormtail demanded.

"It is a private matter, you dunderhead," Severus retorted, "do not concern yourself, she will get over it."

"Private?" Wormtail repeated, suspiciously. "One Rodolphus would be interested to hear about, no doubt?" he threatened, snidely.

"You imbecile, your attempt at intimidation is pointless," Severus hissed. "Would Bellatrix refrain from telling you if it was not _her _who did not want it publicised. And if you did involve Rodolphus, I am sure she will be delighted to hear that you betrayed her confidences," Severus snapped in his low voice, glaring at the other man. "Besides, it is a moot point, the situation did not eventuate," he added, trivialising it with a wave of his hand, the intensity of the situation dissolving with the reduction of Severus' ardour. "It was merely Bellatrix's pride that was injured."

Wormtail glowered at Severus, the dark man had a point and apparently Wormtail must have agreed, as he did not argue any longer, instead stalking across the room and up the concealed stairs. Severus did not see him again that night as he himself retired for the evening only a few minutes later.

Several days passed with not much progress on the scheme. The Dark Lord was not to be appeased and Severus was paying the price for the delay, suffering the torture that was becoming a bit of a habit of his Master's.

Severus' own screams echoed through his head whilst withstanding the pain, but he was still managing to shut them down within moments after the relief came. He wondered how long he could endure the torment, both physically and mentally. It was becoming more difficult with each occurrence, his trembling lasting well into the night and his own screams, now mingled with the screams and horrors of many others, revisiting him in his nightmares.

Waking in a cold sweat one night, breathing heavily, he found himself at near breaking point, a solitary tear sliding down his cheek. He brushed it away, angrily forcing himself to re-focus, employing his Occlumency skills again to push out the hurt and fear, secluding his mind from outside stimulus and restoring a false, yet effective calm, determinedly refusing to allow his thoughts to drift to Cauldron Lane. He would carry on alone.

Draco's arrival nearly two weeks later, was a welcome relief for Severus. He retrieved the information from the teenager, confirming small details until he was satisfied Draco had repeated everything that could be found useful.

Narcissa, it seemed, had been extremely thorough, covering the points requested by Severus with intricate detail. Severus now had everything he needed to proceed with the break out attempt. He did not expect any different, he thought, it would serve Narcissa no purpose to deliberately obstruct him, doubts or no doubts, her husband's freedom being the object of the mission, after all.

In order to organise the series of events and participants, Severus ordered a meeting of all Death Eaters who were to be involved, at Lamnordron. Not all Death Eaters were privy to the location of his private home, some of these were extremely unsavoury individuals and not to be trusted, and in fact many others obviously felt the same about the company they frequently kept as there were numerous masks disguising identities to be found amongst the small crowd.

Severus dictated the plan to the room in a commanding voice after calling for everyone's attention, his features hard and serious. The dark man had never had trouble keeping the attentions of his students at Hogwarts and it was not different here. He presented an aura of control and confidence, with the unmistakable air of a lack of tolerance for troublemakers. He was, in short, extremely intimidating.

"The Northerly wing is our main target, the protection is varied, though not impossible to negotiate. Merren," addressed Severus, indicating to the Death Eater to his left, against the wall, "is the spell breaker, he will be responsible for the removal of all magical barriers, he has been informed of the probable charms used and counter spells to disarm them."

There was a gentle murmur spreading across the small group, however it ceased immediately when Severus continued to speak.

"Bellatrix," Severus glanced in the woman's direction, noticing the sour look on her face, though ensuring his own features remained inscrutable, "will be the key navigator, she alone is most familiar with the layout."

"I will lead the attack, Bellatrix and Merren you will follow directly behind, the rest of you will guard their flanks with the exception of three," Severus looked around the room for suitable volunteers, "you… and you two," he said, pointing out two masked Death Eaters and a large beefy looking man, "you will remain outside the perimeter in case of Auror back-up."

"And Draco?" came the leering voice of Bellatrix, clutching the shoulder of the teenager Severus only just now realised was there.

Severus narrowed his eyes at the woman, she did not flinch beneath his glare. Severus was livid, though he refused to be drawn into an argument or be forced to justify his judgement and decisions regarding Draco's _education_ in front of this many of his subordinates.

"With me," he answered, in a dangerously low voice that was almost a snarl, then he ripped his gaze away from her, giving her no more credence.

"Are we all clear?" Severus asked to the room at large and when he got only nods and murmurs of agreement, he continued. "We will begin to take our places in approximately three hours, to be ready for the assault during the night shift change of guard. This will ensure the least resistance (and the least casualties as Severus had planned), this takes place at two in the morning. Bide your time here until then, but no-one is to leave Lamnordron," Severus ordered, reaching for his wand within his robes. He did not want to risk anyone tipping off the guards at Azkaban of the impending attack, and with a flick of his wand he warded the door so no one may defy the command.

As the crowd began to disperse amongst the other rooms, helping themselves to the refreshments that had wondrously appeared on levitated trays, quietly talking amongst themselves, Severus sent a piercing look toward Bellatrix who was still eyeing him malevolently.

"A word, Bellatrix," he snapped icily, flicking his head toward the next room and swiftly swooping across the threshold wordlessly ushering the few Death Eaters who had congregated there, out. They obeyed immediately, and Bellatrix reluctantly sauntered in as the last of them exited. Severus closed the door and locked it behind her.

He advanced on the woman, his fury showing on his face, gripping his hand tightly on his wand that was still drawn. "You are not beyond discipline, Bellatrix. If you ever try to attempt to undermine my authority again, no matter how subtly, I will take matters into my own hands!" he threatened, baring his teeth in a snarl.

Bellatrix looked startled for a moment, but then regained some of her snide composure, somewhat resembling her sister for an instant. "You expect me to accept what you tried to do to me?" she shot at Severus, angrily.

"You wanted it, or at least that is what you implied," Severus snapped in response, "or were you just playing games, Bellatrix?"

The dark haired woman looked uncomfortable for a split second, but then lifted her chin. "I had an interest in you… but no more," she said with a sneer, "I - told - you - to - stop!" she said slowly, her anger evident in her voice.

"Bellatrix, I warned you that I would have expectations. What did you suspect I meant?" he replied, nastily.

Severus could see the woman was still fuming, but was running through in her mind what had happened between them that day, a number of weeks ago.

"Is this how you planned to _handle_ me?' Severus sneered, pushing his advantage.

The woman swallowed, breaking eye contact with Severus.

"You have been trying to tempt me for months, and then at the very moment I relent and give you what you have been demanding, you tell me I have to wait!" he continued to push, "I told you I will not be used!"

Bellatrix glanced at his face, "I made a mistake," she explained, "I am married."

"The very reason I resisted your advances in the first place, Bellatrix, but you were insistent," he responded, frustrated, though his voice taking on a marginally softer tone.

"You are right," Bellatrix conceded, tilting her head to the floor. "I was wrong," she admitted in a half strangled voice.

Severus felt the elation of victory well inside him. He had managed to manipulate himself out of the mess he had created without even an apology. Relief washed over him as he sensed he would have no more trouble from the woman in front of him.

"We will speak of this no more," he commanded, "it did not happen as far as I am concerned, agree?"

The woman nodded her head in agreement, "Agree," she responded, sombrely.

"You will welcome your husband home in a few hours with a clear conscience. There is no need to compromise what you have," Severus said, implying that the man would not hear any different from Severus.

Bellatrix appeared somewhat grateful, continuing to nod her agreement. "Snape," she bid curtly, moving past the dark man, toward the door. Severus silently flicked his wand at it, unlocking it for her.

"Bellatrix," Severus responded, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as he watched her leave.


	23. Chapter 23  Freedom

Severus displays his brilliance, though he is not beyond mistakes...

Here is my tribute to Severus' talent... something we were never allowed to witness in JK's version.

I'm still sobbing... perhaps a few comaraderie reviews can help me to feel better... underkerstumble??

**Chapter 23**_ - Freedom_

Everyone was in position about thirty minutes before the change of guard. Severus watched and waited, nervous yet focused. He would play a major role in the success of this mission and the responsibility was weighing heavily on him.

Draco was fidgeting beside him, Severus frowned at the boy extending his hand to the boy's to stay his movement. Draco looked nervously at the dark man. Severus nodded a tiny nod at him intending to comfort the teenager, but noticed Bellatrix eyeing him from her position not too far away, so changed his expression to one of annoyance instead.

Severus returned his concentration to his task, his dark eyes staring relentlessly toward the Apparition point used by the guards when arriving at, and leaving from, the Institution. Suddenly the silence was broken by the loud resonance of guards appearing. There would be fourteen arriving for duty all up and Severus' orders stipulated that no Death Eater was to make a move until the last guard had Apparated.

Keeping count, Severus watched almost not breathing. As the final guard materialised with a _pop_, the Dark Lord's Second raised his hand above his head and signalled the attack.

Each concealed Death Eater shot their stunning spells at the newly arrived guards. In a matter of moments there were none left standing. Their attack had obviously been unexpected.

Severus had discovered that the new system of security was to be easily compromised. Since the defection of the Dementors, Azkaban was extremely vulnerable to attack, the Ministry of Magic had certainly been unprepared for the full responsibility of keeping their prisoners detained, having relied on the morbid creatures for so long.

The guards were dragged into the surrounding trees and stripped of their uniforms. Fourteen Death Eaters uncorked their pre-prepared vials of potion and then added their final ingredient, the lock of hair plucked directly from the heads of each of their victims.

The Polyjuice Potion acted almost immediately, gradually, and certainly painfully altering each Death Eater's appearance until they resembled the unconscious guard at their feet. Quickly they adorned the uniforms and when the last Death Eater was ready, Severus silently signalled the next stage of the operation whilst the remaining members of Severus' contingent secured the guards.

The disguised Death Eaters approached the entrance to the prison. With the entire crew being Death Eaters in disguise, there was no chance that anyone would become suspicious of any oddities in behaviour as would happen if only a few had been abducted for the cause. It was the beauty of the scheme, the brilliance. Severus' black eyes glittered in the reflected light as he remained hidden behind the trees, though watching intently as _his_ plan unfolded in front of him.

As the last Death Eater guards disappeared from view, Severus signalled the rest of the assemblage to move up. They all approached the exterior walls, taking up their new positions quickly and quietly.

The false guards were granted entry and immediately took down the front gate crew. Maintaining the entrance, the Death Eater crew signalled to their Second in command that passage was available. Severus motioned to the remaining Death Eaters to proceed, and all but the planned three entered the prison compound.

With Severus in the lead, the formation advanced on the cell blocks. The first block was protected by a number of different wards, which Merren had no trouble in rendering ineffective.

As the group swooped through the hallways, they encountered virtually no resistance. Only one guard had, by all appearances, accidentally stumbled upon their assault. His stand did not last long, Severus stunning and securing him within seconds of his appearance. Working their way through to the Northerly wing they continued to be unchallenged.

"Abysmal," muttered Severus, a scowl on his face.

Behind him the blond teenager gave a small chuckle, appreciative of Severus' comment.

"Left at the next corridor," instructed Bellatrix, guiding the contingent through the maze of passageways.

Approaching the final turn, Severus halted his assemblage, turning briefly to face them and quietly addressing them.

"We cannot expect things to remain as pathetic as this. Merren are you ready, the wards and security will be far more challenging. Bellatrix, take us through the wing collecting our targets in order. Do not deviate from the plan," he commanded.

Then with a swish of his black cloak he turned, "Let us begin," he directed maliciously.

With a small beckoning of his hand he ordered the teenage boy up beside him, "Remain close, Draco," he simply said.

The boy's hand was convulsively clutching his wand which was held at the ready. Severus observed him out of the corners of his black eyes. He had a role to play in this, Severus' stalling of Draco's experience had come to an end, it was time for Draco to prove himself to his peers. Though Severus' promise to Dumbledore was not forgotten, Draco's _education_ would be manipulated and regulated by the dark man.

As the disguised Death Eaters rounded the corner and prompted the current guards to prepare for the hand over, the rest waited hidden and silent. They needed the main security disarmed. Merren would not be able to break the spell, nor was there a way around it. It was only capable of being disarmed by the Wizard who cast it from the inside of the protection.

A flash of purple light emanated from around the final corner, indicating the reversal of the spell. A moment later, the loud commotion began; flashes of red and the ominous green confronted Severus' eyes. Determination and a cold, hard expression masked his true emotions as he gestured the many hidden Death Eaters to join the battle, leading the assault himself, closely followed by Draco.

Storming in, his fear pushed far back to unreachable points, he appeared extremely intimidating once again, silently repelling, jinxing and stunning those in his path.

"Stupefy," yelled out Draco, as he was attacked from his left.

"Use your talent, Draco," chastised Severus, remaining focused on his own quarry.

Immediately the boy obeyed, silently yielding a spectacular curse that rendered his next opponent unable to fight due to painful pustules erupting all over his body.

Passing through the corridors, it was not long before all the guards had fallen, along with a number of Death Eaters. It was not unusual, in fact there was in this instance, as was most times, a few fatalities on both sides of the battle. The Unforgivable curses were the specialties of many of the Death Eaters and it seemed inevitable that the occasional Killing curse would miss its mark and strike an allied member.

With the intent to regroup, Severus commanded a reformation of the remaining Death Eaters. Their new positions taken, they moved in unison down the cell blocks, Merren breaking each spell as requested. The individual cells remained sealed when the major protection was down, it was procedure, so as each incarcerated Death Eater was identified, Severus ordered their release.

As the last prisoner was freed, Severus turned to backtrack. "The wand store, Bellatrix?" he requested of his key navigator.

"This way," she answered, indicating through a set of double doors to their left.

"You did not retrieve our wands first?" came the drawling voice of Lucius, his tone incredulous.

Severus rounded on the man with long blond hair. "You would rather that you were my second priority?" he responded, his face set in a hard expression.

Lucius eyed the dark man, "No, of-course not, Snape. I expect no less than _first_ priority from you," he said, leering at Severus. "However would it not have been prudent to supply us with a means to help ourselves and you to escape should the need arise?"

Severus narrowed his eyes at the confident man, "I assure you Malfoy, the plan is well thought out. Now I suggest that we get on with executing it." With that he spun on his heel and swept through the double doors, signalling with his left hand to his contingent that they should follow.

As he walked away, the dark man thought he heard Bellatrix encouraging her Husband and Brother-in-law to cooperate.

"… now... foolish… is not… ... time or.. place… later…' she hissed in a barely audible voice.

'It is inevitable,' thought Severus, though he knew he would need to maintain command until he had what he needed. It would be a tough road ahead.

"Bellatrix, directions!" he snapped in annoyance.

The dark haired woman took her place behind Severus, giving him the directions he requested. Soon they came to the room holding the wand cabinet.

"Merren, the door," came Severus' order.

As the Spell Breaker disarmed the door, Severus aimed his wand at it, blasting it open it with force.

Suddenly the group sustained an attack from their left, stunning Merren and knocking Bellatrix to the ground. Severus swung around to see the woman slide into the wall, knocking her head hard. Their attackers retreated around the corner from where they had come. Severus silently ordering a three of his Death Eaters to follow after them.

Lucius snatched the wand from his son, rolling up his sleeves to follow the attackers, whilst Rodolphus picked up Bellatrix's fallen wand.

"Leave them, the three I sent will deal with them," commanded Severus.

Lucius gave Severus a disrespectful sneer, continuing to follow the other Death Eaters, ignoring the direct orders.

"I said leave them!" barked Severus, wanting to nip the insubordination in the bud immediately.

Snarling, Lucius advanced on Severus, "You think you are worthy of ordering me around?"

Severus held his wand in the face of the threatening man, maintaining his own ground, his expression just as ugly as the blonde's. "We will not do this now," he snapped, "return Draco's wand to him. And Rodolphus, see to your wife."

"Still trying to order me about?" Lucius countered.

"The Dark Lord has deemed that I am worthy, Lucius, if you have a problem with that then perhaps you should question Him about his judgement," Severus growled, seething in anger, taking a step towards the blond.

The Death Eaters surrounding Severus and Lucius stood and looked on with unease. Not quite knowing whether to step in or not. Severus spoke again.

"Now, give Draco back his wand, and see to Bellatrix," he said smoothly, though with a biting undertone, his eyes darting back and forth between the two newly freed men.

Bellatrix stirred, holding her head in her hands, moaning softly.

Obviously Lucius and Rodolphus must have realised there was nothing to be gained from this stand-off here and now, Lucius backing off and lowering Draco's wand, Rodolphus turning his attention to Bellatrix. Though neither Lucius nor Severus wiped the unpleasant expressions from their faces.

Rodolphus dragged the dark headed woman to her feet, supporting her as she remained unsteady.

Severus continued to eye Lucius, flicking his head indicating that the blond man should follow his command and return the teenager's wand. Resentfully and a little reluctantly the Wizard did obey, handing the wand back to his son; Draco took it from him apprehensively.

Only then did Severus turn away from the pair, "Enervate," he chanted, pointing his wand at his fallen Spell Breaker, then focusing his attentions back on the now open door of the room which contained the wand cabinet. Throwing a spell at the doorway to test if all the protective charms were removed, he found that his spell repelled back toward him and he needed to sidestep quickly to avoid being hit.

"There is another charm across the entrance," he said to Merren, "are you able to remove it?"

The half dazed Merren just looked unsurely at Severus, "Maybe, let me see."

Severus lent a hand to Merren, helping him to his feet so the Spell Breaker could attempt to disarm the charm.

After trying several different counter charms, there was a loud bang, accompanied by smoke and a flash of orange. Many of the Death Eaters who stood around watching, cowered at the noise. Though Severus stood his ground unflinching.

"It is done," Merren announced, then stood back to allow Severus to resume the lead.

Severus poked at the apparently clear doorway with his wand, he felt no barrier. Lifting his chin a little he walked straight through, scanning the new room for further obstacles. He spied the cabinet in the far corner.

"Merren, the cabinet," he ordered to his Spell Breaker.

Merren approached the cabinet, assessing it for a few moments, "This will take a little while, it is well protected," he explained to Severus.

With a nod Severus acknowledged Merren, then he returned to the outside of the room as the Spell Breaker set to work.

"You all remain here, collect your wands as soon as Merren has opened the safe," he commanded the freed Death Eaters, ignoring the scathing looks from both Lucius and Rodolphus. "You five," indicating Bellatrix and four other Death Eaters, "remain with them. You two, with me. Draco…" he said, selecting two still disguised Death Eaters then eyeing the teenager, avoiding Lucius' increasingly thunderous gaze, "with me," he finished smoothly. "The rest of you, take up varying lookout positions, I will find out whether we have any more… _adversaries_ on the loose."

Severus turned and swooped down the hallway, his cloak billowing behind him impressively, in the direction the guards had fled with the Death Eaters in pursuit. Draco apprehensively stepping past his father to follow the Second to the Dark Lord, the two Death Eaters on either side at the rear.

The dark man brought the memories of the prison layout to the forefront of his mind, he'd not really needed Bellatrix to guide him, but having her concentrating on the navigation freed his own mind for more important details. After a few turns, Severus located the stand off between his Death Eaters and the guards. Assessing the situation, he positioned his men silently with a gesture of his hand.

There were seven in all, more than he had first thought, taking cover behind various structures within the corridor, firing spells and jinxes at the Death Eaters who were virtually pinned in.

It was not such an bad thing, whilst the situation remained, the guards were being occupied, and frankly seemed in little danger from these particular Death Eaters, though he would need to ensure the incident was kept isolated from the wand cabinet room whilst Merren was working at opening it.

Draco appeared a little edgy beside him, so Severus indicated that the boy should take a position a little further up. "It is time to prove yourself, Draco," Severus said quietly, yet with a hard edge to his voice as the teenager passed by him. The teen looked at him somewhat alarmed, though neither Wizard had time to dwell on it as a flash of red narrowly missed Draco and he quickly had to move away to take cover.

Several minutes later, one Death Eater and three guards down, Severus advanced fearlessly, repelling the oncoming jinxes with ease, allowing the remaining two Death Eaters to retreat to a more useful position.

As he took cover once more, a disguised Death Eater approached him from behind, the soft steps were not missed by the dark man, a quick glance confirming it was a ally. Severus turned back to the fray, firing off another series of curses, some hitting their mark, removing another guard from the offence… then he felt the forceful impact of a spell hitting him from behind, knocking him from his crouched position, slamming him hard against the wall, his wand clattering to the floor out of reach.

Dazed momentarily, Severus felt a warm trickle run down the side of his face, his first thought that he had been attacked by a Death Eater. As he tried to comprehend what had just happened, it flashed quickly into his mind that Lucius had ordered the Death Eater to attack him and Severus silently rebuked himself for not dealing with the overly confident Wizard when he had the chance. But then, as his focus came back into view and he saw the guard standing over him, he came to a stark realisation. He had mistaken a _real_ guard for a Death Eater. One of the guards having broken away from the battle to circle around and approach Severus and the other Death Eaters from behind via the labyrinth of corridors.

He grunted harshly at his own stupidity, but with his head still spinning from the impact with the wall, there was little else he could do, the guard's wand was now trained on his heart.

Suddenly there was a familiar screaming filling Severus' aching head, uncontrolled and completely consuming, yet it did not issue from his own mouth this time. The guard had crumpled to the floor in front of him, and there in the background was Draco wielding his wand at the guard, the Cruciatus curse his choice of ammunition.

Draco's face was suffused in hatred, Severus could see that Draco was as capable, as he himself had been as a teenager, of generating the necessary emotions to implement any of the Unforgivable curses at will. It was slightly alarming to see the malice in the features of one so young, and the man felt a sickening pang for what had become of his own life.

Scrambling to his feet and snatching up his fallen wand, Severus took a few steps towards Draco, a dizzying sensation causing him to reach for the wall to steady himself. The dark man inhaled a deep breath in an attempt to clear his spinning head.

"Draco!" he spoke sharply, distracting the boy from his concentration on the torture curse.

Draco desisted with the curse, looking to Severus, the guard's screams dying down though the man remained curled on the floor at their feet.

"Enough!" Severus commanded. "Impede him."

The boy went to obey, "Imped-" when a not too distant voice interrupted and commanded otherwise.

"Kill him, Draco," came the drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy.

The blond man was striding toward them, now brandishing his wand, as were the other newly freed Wizards and the rest of the Death Eaters Severus had ordered to stay behind with them. Merren had obviously managed to break into the cabinet to retrieve their wands, and now it was time to leave. Many curses flew from the wands of the approaching Death Eaters in the direction of the now well out numbered guards, soon defeating the two who had been left standing.

"Kill him," Lucius ordered his son again, impatience biting in his tone.

Draco lifted his wand to comply, but once again he hesitated long enough for Severus to mutter the fatal phrase in place of the boy, aiming his own wand at the guard. The jet of green light highlighting the act, searing deep into Severus' eyes as he was forced yet again, to commit the ultimate sin in order to protect the teenager standing alongside him.

Severus leaned more heavily against the wall for support, his ache almost intolerable for the unnamed man lying in a heap before him. His emotions leaked to the surface, though were thankfully masked by, or mistaken for, the symptoms of the injury to the side of his head.

"Can you walk?" Draco asked in a quiet voice beside him, watching him apprehensively.

Lucius swept by them in disgust, though did not challenge Severus again, much to his relief. However Severus knew _that_ was to come later.

"Yes," he answered, with a small nod. "Where is Bellatrix?" Severus queried.

"There," answered Draco, looking toward the dark haired woman several feet away.

"Do something about this, Bellatrix," Severus requested, as he summoned the woman over to him, indicating his cut that was still bleeding quite profusely.

Bellatrix pushed a clump of his blood soaked dark hair away from the deep cut to examine it, suddenly reminding Severus of Phoebe's tender attentions (he craved her comfort right now), and his sharp intake of breath at Bellatrix's touch caused the Witch to eye him inquisitively. She raised her wand and healed the cut, the burning, tingling sensation familiar to the tall, dark Wizard. Severus immediately felt the stinging pain recede, though he was left with an irritating, throbbing headache. He huffed out a sigh as he felt physical and mental exhaustion sweeping over him, the cruel torments of the previous weeks were finally catching up with him. He badly needed to rest, to regather his usual sense of calm and control, as he feared he was approaching the limit of his tolerance.

"It is time to be gone," he called out to the group, trying to lift his energy, turning and beginning to walk down the hall toward the exit. He pretended not to notice the curious glance Bellatrix gave him, knowing that some of his emotions of the night had spilled over for all to see. He was, at this moment, struggling to contain them once more. Severus was just now beginning to acknowledge that he may not be able to go on much longer without help, without support, he could only endure so much alone.

But first, he would need to report to Voldemort, first he would deliver Lucius and Rodolphus to the Dark Lord…


	24. Chapter 24  Life and Soul

Severus' edges are becoming very frayed, the previous few week are taking their toll... how much longer will this drawn out ordeal need to go on for?

I appreciate the few condolence reviews I have recieved, along with the regular reviewers - thankyou so much. I realised that as a consequence of writing Severus from his personal pov, it has caused me to very genuinely fall in love with a fictitious character --- no wonder his demise in Book 7 hit me so hard. :(

However that said, I will take the advice of said reviewers and continue to write to make me feel better --- in my story he is very much still alive!!! So, please review --- I'm doing my part, so please be a part of the process and let me know what you think:)

**Chapter 24** _- Life and Soul_

Severus, pushed almost to his limit, Apparated to outside the barrier of Lamnordron. The night air was filled with the customary sounds of many other Wizards arriving along side him, a number of them changing form, the hour of disguise allowed by the Polyjuice Potion coming to a close.

They were less in number than those who had followed Severus down the corridor to exit Azkaban. On the way out of the building, the Second in charge had received a warning, from one of the three Death Eaters he had stationed outside the prison boundary, alerting him to the arrival of Aurors.

He wasn't sure how word of the Death Eater attack had managed to reach the Ministry of Magic, though considered the possibility that the arrival of the Dark Wizard Catchers could have been pure coincidence, nevertheless their presence had added a further obstacle to the successful execution of Severus' plan. The dark man cursed silently to himself before leading his contingent through the newest barrier. The conflict was over quickly though it was not without further casualties. Three of the Death Eaters who had just been freed were recaptured, and regretfully, an Auror was savagely murdered. It had been a brutal ending for a man Rodolphus had obviously had a personal issue with, first taking him as a hostage so the group may escape, then subjecting him to a series of tortures and punishments. Severus hadn't been able to prevent it, nor step in to minimise the man's suffering, he'd simply had to endure the horror, accept it, even having to pretend to relish it. Those last few moments seemed to stretch into hours… and the memories would remain with Severus for eternity.

By now he was feeling numb, switching off his internal emotion, trying to push the images from his mind. Severus did not function at his most efficient this way, but as a last resort he had employed this tactic to see him through, the night was not over yet.

As the last of the Death Eaters arrived, Severus called them to order and dismissed those who had assisted with the prison raid. The freed Death Eaters, including Lucius and Rodolphus, Severus commanded to accompany him into the castle. Bellatrix remained with her husband, following the group through the ruins and up the stone steps, though Draco waited for the return of his father in the courtyard.

Severus passed through the antechamber doorway, not expecting the Dark Lord to be waiting for them. He froze momentarily in shock seeing the cold, cruel Wizard standing in the middle of the room, obviously expecting their arrival, his large pet snake sliding into the next room and out of sight.

"Welcome," he said, almost pleasantly, although the usually warm sentiment was lost by the fact that it was uttered in the high, chilling voice.

"My Lord," Severus responded, recovering quickly and kneeling in front of his Master.

The rest of the Death Eaters following Severus imitated his acquiesce to the powerful Wizard.

"I only see eight of the eleven, Snape," said the Dark Lord, "do you have an explanation?" he asked, his red snakelike eyes glaring down at the kneeling Wizard.

"My Lord, the other three were recaptured during our escape, Aurors were alerted to our presence. If it is your wish, they shall be retrieved in another attempt," Severus explained, realising that any excuse offered to the cruel leader would be futile.

"Macnair, Crabbe and Greyback," Voldemort pondered aloud, naming the Death Eaters who had not been successfully freed, "that will not be necessary, Snape. They would not be worth the risk," he announced, cruelly.

"As you wish, My Lord," Severus responded, expecting at any moment the punishment for his failure.

"Come, Snape," commanded the Dark Lord, "I wish to have a private word."

Severus looked up in surprise, his gaze meeting the cold, pitiless eyes of the Wizard before him. "Yes, My Lord," he managed to utter, standing to follow the man who had now turned and was making his way into the next room.

"The rest of you, wait as you are," the Dark Lord ordered, not bothering to look back.

Once he had entered the next room, the door shutting behind him, Severus went to resume his kneeling position before the Dark Lord.

"There will be no need for that," Voldemort insisted, handing Severus a crystal goblet from a nearby tray, filled with a strong smelling spirit.

"Thankyou, My Lord," Severus acknowledged, taking the goblet graciously, though little alarm bells were signalling in the depths of his mind.

Voldemort just nodded at him, reaching again for the tray to lift his own gold goblet with his fingers. Severus' uneasiness grew as the silence began to stretch out, the snake slithering in circles around them both, though finally the notorious Wizard began to speak.

"You have proved yourself time and time again, Snape. I am appreciative of your loyalty."

Severus went to respond, but the Dark Lord held out his hand to silence him. He instead continued to listen intently.

"Word has it, however, that you are... reluctant to kill?" he said, looking to Severus for an explanation.

Severus, already numb emotionally and also having re-set his personal defences before entering Lamnordron, answered calmly, "I find there are other ways to achieve what I need, without taking a life. Though I believe I have proved that I am quite capable of doing so if the need arises."

"Yes, I have seen," responded the Dark Lord, almost approvingly. "You value life?" he then continued, expectantly.

"Yes, My Lord. If there is no life, then there is... nothing," Severus explained with conviction, though remaining calm, acutely aware of the Dark Lord's intense scrutiny and the progressive circling of the giant serpent.

"Agree," Voldemort answered smoothly, continuing to eye Severus appraisingly. Then, "To _life_', he proclaimed, raising up his goblet for Severus to join with his own, in a toast.

"To _life_," Severus imitated, elevating his own crystal goblet. As both goblets came into contact with one another Severus' stomach suddenly gave an almost uncontrollable lurch when he instantly recognised that the vessel the Dark Lord was drinking from was none other than Hufflepuff's cup. The badger insignia clearly visible, etched into the gold on the goblet's side. One of Voldemort's horcruxes! It had been under Severus' nose the entire time and he hadn't even realised... until now that is.

Desperate to maintain his calm, Severus emptied his crystal goblet in one mouthful. Finally the reason Severus had had to kill the Headmaster was playing out before his eyes. Dumbledore had informed Severus of all the possibilities of objects Voldemort could have chosen, in which to store a fragment of his soul, as a horcrux. He had trusted Severus with every detail, and aside from Harry Potter, no one had as much information.

It was not his job to destroy the horcruxes (though he would if the opportunity arose), but only to locate them and inform Potter. It was the boy's destiny to attempt to vanquish the Dark Lord, and as unlikely as it was that Potter would actually succeed, Severus knew it could be achieved by no other. In other words, it was Harry or no one. The only way Severus would ever be free, would be to assist Potter, to help him succeed, it was his only chance. As much as it galled him, Severus had accepted that he had no choice. All the horcruxes would need to be destroyed before the Dark Lord could be rendered mortal, they all needed to be found and destroyed before there could be any hope that this nightmare would end.

Hufflepuff's cup was one of three Severus would need to locate. Two had already been destroyed, Tom Riddle's diary, and Slytherin's ring. Another, Dumbledore had assured Severus, would be found in a location the Headmaster was investigating before his death, and the fourth was Nagini, Voldemort's snake - which from Severus' point of view, Potter would do well to leave the beast until last, as she was almost always to be found at the Dark Lord's side. But none of these horcruxes were Severus' problem. Only the two other objects, an heirloom of Ravenclaw's or of Griffindor's were suggested as the most likely items. If Voldemort was flaunting them, as he appeared to be doing with the cup, Severus would have little trouble recognising them.

"Have you had any difficulty with Lucius or Rodolphus?" questioned the Dark Lord, in an obviously knowing way, his red eyes boring into Severus'.

"None that I cannot handle," Severus responded confidently, not letting his guard down for a second, his Occlumency skills being pushed to their limits.

"Excellent," he charmed, a cruel smirk showing on his face. "You may go," he announced, dismissing Severus with as little regard as Severus had shown for Draco. "There are issues that I need to sort out with the... others," he said, a dark look consuming his features, "I will be in contact, Snape."

"Yes, My Lord," Severus responded, placing his empty goblet back on the tray, "Thank you, My Lord," he said and made a small subservient bow before turning and exiting the room, passing by the obviously hostile hissing snake.

The dark man did not make eye contact with any of the Wizards, nor Bellatrix, still kneeling on the floor as he passed by. Severus highly suspected what was in store for them, he had endured it many times recently, though he found it difficult to feel empathy for them, only a huge relief about his own unexpected reprieve, as he had not felt confident that he would endure the torture in a dignified manner this time. He had been pushed much too far tonight already.

Stepping off the last of the stone steps, making his way into the courtyard, he spied Draco sitting on a pile of broken stone rubble.

"You should not wait, Draco, he will be in no mood to deal with you sensibly," Severus suggested to the teenager.

"I have nowhere else to go, Father will probably stay with Aunt Bellatrix and Rodolphus," the blond teenager responded, "I know of nowhere else."

Severus contemplated the boy, he concluded that Draco was correct and recognised that he was vulnerable to Lucius tonight. He knew the blond man would be unreasonably harsh for the next several hours, after enduring the wrath of the Dark Lord, and that Draco would certainly bear the brunt of his frustration. He would be better off staying elsewhere, for the time being at least.

"Come with me," he said bluntly as the first of the dull screams echoed through the ruins. He began walking briskly toward Lamnordron's Apparition boundary, his cloak billowing in the night air. Severus could not bear to listen to the screams just now, he had to leave.

Hesitating a little, Draco soon followed the dark man past the boundary and Apparated with him to Spinner's End.

After admitting Draco into his house and directing him up to his own bedroom (there only being two in the house and Wormtail inhabiting the other), Severus warned him not to answer the front door and to ward his bedroom door against intruders.

"I shall not return until late tomorrow, Wormtail should be here somewhere if you need anything," he informed Draco. The boy nodded in acknowledgment, and Severus returned to the lower floor and let himself out the front door again.

He Disapparated once more, re-appearing instantly outside the cottage in Cauldron Lane, resolutely ignoring the voice in his head telling him he should not have come here. Severus knocked loudly on the front door.

"Master," greeted Erlin the house-elf, opening the door wide to admit the Wizard.

The moment the door was closed, Severus let down his guard somewhat, then swallowed hard in an attempt to keep contained the emotions that were thrashing to emerge. Not wanting to disturb Phoebe, he sat down on the couch, positioning a cushion to use as a pillow. He was utterly exhausted, he just wanted to sleep.

"Can I get you anything, Master?" asked Erlin.

"No... I do not need anything," Severus responded, sighing with exhaustion.

"As you wish, Master," Erlin said, leaving the room through the kitchen doorway.

Severus was about to put his feet up on the couch to lie down when a female voice spoke from the darkened hallway.

"Come to the bedroom, Severus. You should sleep in the bed, you look exhausted," suggested Phoebe.

Even her voice sounded comforting to him, and he could think of nothing more inviting than lying with her in his arms tonight.

"I did not mean to wake you-" Severus began, but Phoebe interrupted.

"Shh… it's okay. Come on," she said, walking over to him and offering him her hand.

He took it gratefully, standing and following her down the hall. After she shut the bedroom door she began removing his cloak and coat for him, and he let her, feeling practically dead on his feet.

"Wait here," she said, pushing him back to sit on the edge of the bed and leaving the room, although she returned only a minute or two later.

In the dim light cast by a single candle, Phoebe gently cleaned away the blood that was still covering the side of his face and neck with a warm, wet washer.

"Are you hurt?" she asked worriedly as she did so, searching for the wound the blood must have come from.

He went to still her hand that had begun to lift away his dark hair with his, "No, the cut has been healed, I am no longer injured," he explained.

Severus noticed as the woman sighed a little in relief, stopping her search. Instead, she ran her thumb across his forehead above the bridge of his nose, smoothing his deep frown crease.

"You have a headache though?" she said, continuing to gently massage.

Nodding slightly, Severus answered truthfully, "Yes."

Bending slightly to him, she kissed his forehead lightly. Every touch felt like bliss for  
Severus, and he closed his eyes momentarily to savour it.

"You need sleep, lie down," Phoebe encouraged, a light pressure pushing on his shoulder. He gave in to her gentle commands, lying back to the soft pillows as he felt her quickly slip off his shoes before he lifted his legs to slide them under the covers.

His eyelids so heavy he could not keep them open, Severus only felt the warm body of Phoebe slip into the bed next to him and the soft strokes of her fingers on his face and neck soothing him off to sleep. The welcome blackness consumed him within moments.

**A**s the dawn sun was rising Severus screamed out, apparently in excruciating pain, his whole body was thrashing, his back arching and muscles contracting as if in the throes of a seizure, waking the woman beside him with a start. Panicking she sat upright, turning to the man to try to help, her heart thumping hard within her chest. But when she looked at him, she saw that he still had his eyes closed… he was dreaming.

"Severus," she spoke soothingly, though she was breathing heavily. The blood-curdling scream was piercing her every nerve, and she only narrowly avoided being hit by the man's still thrashing arms.

"Shh... Severus, wake up!" she said again louder, gently shaking him this time, attempting to restrain his arms. Moments later the man opened his eyes; he too was breathing heavily, beads of sweat covering his brow. Phoebe was extremely relieved when the screaming and thrashing had ceased, the sound of his terror was very distressing for her. "You're okay, Severus," she assured him, "it's just a dream."

The man stared at her blankly for a few moments, though groaned deeply when he had woken enough to comprehend what she had said, scrubbing his hands fiercely over his face.

"Go back to sleep, I think you still need more," Phoebe said.

"I woke you?" Severus asked, apologetically.

"It's okay, go back to sleep now," she insisted, lying back down beside him, rubbing her hand over his chest, feeling his heart rate slowly returning to normal.

The dark man rolled over onto his side and soon relaxed again, sinking back into a deep sleep; he would not remember this incident when he woke next time, late the following morning. Though it was quite a while before Phoebe managed to sleep again.

Phoebe rose later than usual, her advancing pregnancy and broken sleep increasing her need for more hours of rest. She had also found it difficult to leave the warm body lying beside her. It felt comforting to have him near her, knowing he was safe and well, wanting to keep a hold of him. It had been hard to watch him leave so many times, worrying constantly for his safe return. But she did not want to disturb the man and she was becoming uncomfortable lying so still.

As she did finally slide out of bed, looking back at Severus' sleeping form, she wondered what had happened with him last night. Taking the still damp washer off the night stand to the bathroom and rinsing the blood (his blood) down the sink, she shook her head frowning. Why did he need to put himself through this? It all seemed so unfair to her, and it upset her to see him so vulnerable when he was normally so strong.

Spreading the washer out on the side of the sink to dry, she turned to leave the bathroom when a wave a nausea hit her. She'd forgotten to take her dose of Quellin before getting out of bed. Phoebe turned and threw up in the toilet, trying to be as quiet as possible, she did not want to wake the man in the other room so early. He obviously had had a difficult night and needed to rest.

She remained crouched on the floor, taking a few deep breaths after she had finished being sick, the baby within her squirming vigorously. She placed her had over her belly.

"It's okay, I'm alright, Mummy just forgot her potion, that's all," she whispered, "Daddy is here though, he will make everything better." She held her hand there until the movements ceased, it still felt exciting to feel the baby's kicking, she could never have enough of that.

Huffing out a sigh, she dragged herself to her feet (a task becoming more and more challenging) rinsed her mouth at the sink, then made her way quietly into the kitchen. Erlin was there preparing the breakfast.

Groaning at the sight and smell of the food, Phoebe excused herself from eating this morning.

"I can't, Erlin, I forgot the Quellin," she explained, as the house-elf tried to tempt her.

As she turned from the kitchen, she spied the Potions text lying on the table. She had progressed through the books and was now reading about Severus' passion.

"I wonder if I can still take it?" she mulled quietly to herself, "It might still work. Maybe I'll find it in here."

Taking the text off the table and curling up on the couch, she began to search the pages for the information about the anti-nausea potion. After about ten minutes, she'd located the section on remedies, and several minutes later (it was a particularly large book) had found the page containing the anti-nausea recipes and uses.

Running her finger down the page, she found it, with what she assumed was Severus' handwriting making notations alongside the recipe:

Quellin

Used for the soothing of nauseous symptoms and reflux.

Effective for all causes of the above symptoms.

Safe during pregnancy, unlike the common remedy; Nonvom.

Taken before rising in the morning, it provides relief for a

twenty-four hour period.

Taken after rising, it is less effective, though some relief

may be achieved.

If symptoms persist, seek medical assistance.

May also be used to promote relaxation and/or calming hiccoughs.

Ingredients and Directions

_10oz Lacewing flies_

_2 Brown Haliocarbs_

_1 pint of Dragon Blood (taken from a live dragon) _Buy this -remember

_7 finely chopped Bitter Ginger Roots _what happened last time.

_3oz powdered root of Asphodel_

_4 pints of Water_

_Warm water in Cauldron_

_Add Lacewing flies_

_Add Dragon Blood a little at a time, do NOT allow to boil_

_Stir clockwise for seven stirs _Add two counter-clockwise stirs - improves consistency

_Stir in Bitter Ginger Root - one at a time _Clockwise only !

_Allow to steep for 3 hours, stirring clockwise once every twenty minutes_

_Gently sprinkle Asphodel over surface of liquid_

_Cool for one hour before decanting_

Phoebe was nearly gagging, both from the nausea which had crept up on her again and from the realisation of what she had been consuming over the last couple of months. '_Gross! Ewww!_'

"You, no doubt, would have been a Ravenclaw," Phoebe heard Severus' smooth, deep voice emit from the hall way.

But Phoebe was too ill to reply just then, making a dash past the man for the bathroom, yet again. Severus staring after her with a concerned look on his face.

Severus helped her up from the bathroom floor when she had finished, "You did not take your potion?" he asked her, slightly perplexed.

Shaking a little from the effort of trying to throw up virtually nothing from her stomach, Phoebe answered quietly, "I forgot. But the book says I can take some now." She rinsed her mouth once more in an attempt to remove the horrid taste.

"You looked it up?" Severus asked, half amused, "Why didn't you just ask me?"

"You needed to sleep, I didn't want to wake you," she explained as Severus led her back out to the sitting room.

"Sit down, I will get it for you," he urged her.

When he returned to the sitting room with the potion, he offered her the correct measure on the spoon. She took it gratefully at first, then remembering its ingredients, grimaced at the thought of it.

"What is wrong?" Severus questioned.

Half laughing, Phoebe said, "I just found out what's _in_ this."

Rolling his eyes at her, he placed his hand over hers and pushed the spoon closer to her mouth, "Don't be absurd," he admonished with slight impatience.

Submitting, she allowed him to guide the spoon into her mouth, then leaned back against the couch to wait for it to take effect. The dark man perched himself on the arm of the couch beside her, assessing her with his almost black eyes.

"I am fine now, Severus. You should go back to bed, you still look tired," Phoebe said after several moments, feeling a fraction better.

"I cannot sleep," he replied frankly, seeming frustrated and exhausted at the same time.

"Well, come and lie here with me then," Phoebe invited, tapping the empty seat beside her, wanting the man to at least try to relax.

The man accepted, and she pulled him against her until he was resting, lying his head against her shoulder. She heard him sigh and when she looked into his face, she again saw the crease of his frown, and she worried for him.

"Is there anything I can do to help, Severus?" she asked, her concern emanating in her voice.

"No," he said, shaking his head slowly. But his increasing breaths seemed to indicate he was fighting something intangible and soon after his face screwed up with his pain and he could hold it back no longer. Phoebe leaned forward and took him in her arms as his first sob escaped him, his body shuddering intensely as his powerful emotions finally broke free. He buried his face into her neck, clutching her fiercely, his anguish forcing itself to be recognised, as rare tears spilled onto her skin.

Phoebe ached for him, holding him tightly, supporting him, "Oh, Severus… I've got you, I'm here for you," she whispered in his ear. "You are not alone."


	25. Chapter 25  Identity

Phoebe hasn't yet got all the pieces, will she finally put together the puzzle that is Severus Snape? And what of Phoebe...?

Pretty please review - I know there are a lot of you out there reading... I frequently look at my statistics page... please say HELLO!!!

**Chapter 25**_ - Identity_

It had been heartbreaking to see Severus so distraught. Phoebe deduced that he must have been forced to go against almost every grain of his _being_ to be reduced to such a state. He most probably had sacrificed _who_ he was in order to operate amongst the Dark side. She felt for him, wishing desperately that she could spare him from this torment… and from having to go back. This perhaps hurt Phoebe more than anything else, knowing that she would have to send Severus back there in mere hours, back to a place that seemed so dark, so corrupt and evil that it was almost beyond her comprehension. And she could do nothing about it. She felt a strong urge to protect him; but what could _she_ do, just pick up the pieces of his devastated conscience when he came to her?

They lay together on the couch when Severus had calmed enough for Phoebe to release him a little from her embrace. His blank, numb expression was evidence of his exhaustion and Phoebe saw that he desperately needed to sleep. She stroked her thumb softly across his face, along his cheekbone and over his eyes, encouraging him to close them. She could not send him back to the Dark side like this, he was fragile, brittle even. In silence she did her best to soothe him, perhaps after he had rested, he would regain some of his usual strength.

He slept against her body, Phoebe watching over him protectively, not wanting to leave him just now, not when he so obviously needed her support.

After a time (it felt like well over an hour), Phoebe once again began to feel uncomfortable lying so still on her back, the weight of the baby pressing on her artery, causing her to feel a little light headed, and her breathing somewhat uncomfortably shallow. Gently she manoeuvred herself out from under his body, replacing her shoulder with a cushion. The man stirred a little, but thankfully he did not wake.

He looked comfortable and relaxed, and Phoebe thought she could watch him sleep like this forever. When she finally felt satisfied that he did not need her fussing over him, she decided she ought to take the time to shower and dress instead.

Most of her nausea had disappeared, though Phoebe did notice she still felt a little queasy, and she did have a bit of a headache developing. Nothing she couldn't put up with though.

'Thank goodness the Quellin was still somewhat effective,' she thought, as the hot water began to pour down on her in the shower. It helped her to relax a bit, until now she hadn't realised how anxious she had been. She closed her eyes, leaning against the shower wall, enjoying the massaging effect of the firm jet of water. Her thoughts eventually turned to the father of her unborn child.

'He had been injured last night,' she thought, remembering cleaning the blood from his face not long after he had arrived, feeling thankful that he was alright now. He told her he had been healed, but Phoebe now understood that the injury had been the least of his concerns.

She wondered briefly what he had been forced to do which had evoked such a powerful emotional response, a reaction even Phoebe recognised was unusual, perhaps even unheard of , from him. But then she quickly decided that she really didn't want to know. Phoebe suddenly furrowed her brow, 'No, that isn't fair… it isn't fair to Severus.' If he'd had to face it, should Phoebe be so squeamish that she refused to simply hear about his torment. A little guiltily, Phoebe remembered it was she who had encouraged this man to go and help Harry Potter, to follow Dumbledore's plan, to fight to end all this, and now here she was practically judging him for the things he had to do for the cause. 'No, that definitely is not fair!'

She thought maybe she should encourage him to talk to her, share the burden. But how was she to get the man to talk? That would be her next problem, he was always so guarded about what he has experienced, everything he has endured, that she doubted he would be an open book now.

It was kind of sweet that he was trying to protect her from the harsh realities, it proved that he cared, even though he never said it. But it was enough that she knew, Phoebe could not expect more from him at this stage, he had enough on his plate. She smiled expectantly at this thought. How passionate could Severus be if he was not otherwise occupied? This was certainly one experience with him she would anticipate to be completely breathtaking. She had sensed his potential for great passion and devotion when she had first met him, that combined with his confidence and strength was what had attracted her to him in the first place, she recalled with fondness. 'And the fact that he is a tall, dark _wizard_ doesn't hurt,' she thought, chuckling to herself.

Phoebe turned off the water, dried herself, wrapped the dressing gown around her and made her way into her bedroom to dress. She sifted through her clothes and quickly chose something to wear. The choice was made easier now, ever since Severus had fixed her _problem_ a few weeks ago. As she pulled on a pair of jeans, she was amazed how they fit so perfectly day after day, despite her growing midriff.

Severus had performed a self adjusting spell on all of her clothing before he had left last time, and he had given her an almost cheeky smirk as he selected the burgundy robes from the wardrobe and repeated the incantation on them. She remembered holding him that day, feeling completely in love and yet extremely fearful at the same time. It seemed so strange to Phoebe that a person was able to feel those very different emotions simultaneously.

Once dressed, she went back out to the kitchen to get something from the House-elf to eat, she was beginning to become quite peckish as she hadn't eaten all morning and it was now past midday. Maybe her blood sugar was low and this is why she had a headache (which seemed to be getting a bit worse, she noticed).

The man didn't appear to have moved at all, Phoebe shook her head slowly, appalled at how exhausted Severus must have been. Munching on some toast, she took the Potions text off the coffee table once again and sat down (a little ungracefully) on the floor in front of the couch next to the sleeping man, with the intention of continuing to read where she left off the previous day.

As she opened the cover she noticed for the first time written in the same handwriting as the other notations throughout all the books, 'Property of The Half-Blood Prince'. It seemed odd to Phoebe, she had assumed the handwriting was Severus', but Phoebe knew he was a pure-blood wizard. She briefly wondered to herself who the books had belonged to, but soon she forgot all about it, turning to the page she had marked with a folded piece of paper.

The toast long gone, and several pages later, Phoebe rubbed her forehead, her eyes were tired and aching, which wasn't helping her headache any - she really needed to sleep some more too, she decided. She looked up to see the man's almost black eyes watching her.

"You're awake," she said quietly, smiling gently at him.

"Yes," he responded, raising himself onto one elbow and supporting his head on his hand.

"How do you feel?" Phoebe asked with concern.

"Much more rested," he replied.

"Good, I'm glad," Phoebe said, snapping the book shut and inching closer to the couch on her knees.

Severus held his hand out to assist her, which she took gratefully, her advancing pregnancy was beginning to slow her down and moving around was sometimes a little awkward. He pulled her close to him, then lifting his head from his other hand, he reached out and gently raked his fingers through her hair on the side of her head. He leaned forward to kiss her lips.

Phoebe allowed herself to be drawn close, and enjoyed the tender kiss. When he pulled away, she grinned at him.

"You're definitely feeling much better, aren't you?" she teased.

Snorting a little in amusement, a mischievous glint in his eye, he kissed her again more passionately. But Phoebe noticed his heart wasn't really in it, and he eventually settled for just holding her close. With her head still aching Phoebe wasn't really in the mood either.

After a while he released her from his embrace and gently took the Potions text from her grasp.

"Ravenclaw, as I said before," he muttered.

"No, I don't think so," she contradicted, with a grin, noting the puzzled look on his face. "Actually I think I would have more likely been in Hufflepuff."

He snorted in amusement once more, "You have read _Hogwarts a History_, then," he stated, with a tiny encouraging nod of acknowledgment. "Hufflepuff indeed," he then mumbled scornfully, a small sneer occupying his features, reaching to place the book on the small table and sitting upright.

"Yes," Phoebe responded, a little indignantly, "why, do you have a problem with that?" she asked, sitting back on her heels so she could survey his response.

"Well, they are not known for their wit, ambition, bravery nor necessarily their intelligence, I assume you would like to highlight your assets rather than detract from them," he answered, smugly.

"You do not value loyalty?" she countered, still very much indignant, "I rather think that is a trait you would prefer to have highlighted yourself currently... Mr _Slytherin_."

After another small snort of amusement, "Well, well… we have done our homework, haven't we," Severus responded laconically, although he again acknowledged and encouraged her diligence with a small nod.

"Yes, I have actually," she responded; Phoebe's turn to be smug, "You know, I am rather proud of you," she said, somewhat ambiguously.

"Proud?" Severus questioned, curious of her intention.

"Yes, proud that you no longer hold dear the sentiments practically ingrained in your house. That must have taken a strong character to turn away from what has obviously been impressed upon you since you were eleven years old," she explained.

Severus narrowed his eyes at her, a small frown appearing on his forehead, still apparently uncertain of her meaning.

"You know… all that non pure-blood prejudice, Salazar Slytherin not allowing muggle-born wizards into Slytherin house. I think you would have done well to associate with some, no doubt," Phoebe announced, a bit arrogantly and rather rudely.

"Indeed," Severus responded brusquely, a cold look clouding his already dark eyes.

Noticing his icy response to her comment, Phoebe felt a bit embarrassed, she realised she had no right to judge him in that way. Sometimes she just wished she remembered to engage the filter between her brain and her mouth before she spoke.

"Sorry," she said, reaching to take his hand in her own, "I... I am just being an idiot, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Accuse me, you mean," he said resentfully, removing his hand from her reach and standing up.

This was all going wrong, she did not want to be responsible for causing Severus more conflict. She felt terrible, silently admonishing herself for being so insensitive.

"No, Severus, I'm not accusing you of anything," she insisted, apologetically.

Severus walked over to the window, keeping his back to her, "You have made assumptions about me. You may have read what I provided you, but you really know nothing… you know nothing of me," he said, abruptly.

Phoebe was taken aback by his tone and attitude, she did not know what to say to the angry man, so chose to say nothing at all, just staring after him in disbelief.

He wheeled around on her when she maintained her silence, his anger and frustration evident, "You know nothing about _Me_," he snarled, emphasising himself by tapping his closed fist on his own chest.

Shocked at the way he was treating her, she turned her face away from him, away from his glaring eyes filled with anger. Phoebe did not know what else to say or do, but suddenly, as she was staring down at the well worn rug, it dawned on her that she did not deserve to be treated this appallingly. She had indulged Severus and allowed his short temper because he had seemed vulnerable and she knew he was still tired. She'd felt he had warranted her sympathy and patience, however he had now crossed the line.

She looked back up at his angry face, fury now spreading across her own. "Well, why don't you enlighten me then?" she spat out at him. "Tell me what I don't know, Severus, finally tell me about who you really are!" she demanded.

He stared back at her, seething. "Never mind… forget it, you would not understand," he said bluntly, turning his back on her again.

"Is that because I'm a Muggle," Phoebe shot accusingly at him. "What would I know? I do not have the correct genes to comprehend _your_ world - your _kind_. You know, it's about time you got over yourself, Severus, your pure blood is unimportant in the real world. My blood, and your child's blood for that matter, is fine just the way it is!" she finished, her voice rising with her temper.

After a pause Severus answered, "Do not push me today, Phoebe!" he said warningly, clenching and unclenching his fists by his side.

"Push you!?" she said incredulously, using the couch to lever herself up to stand and face him. "You are so arrogant sometimes, you know. Perhaps Slytherin was right after all - keep all the Muggle-borns away from the perfect pure-bloods, for fear they will be attacked for their blatant conceit!" she announced, with outraged sarcasm, trying to ignore the painful throb in her head.

"I am NOT a pure blood!" Severus suddenly shouted, his tolerance for the false accusations breaking, then he turned and snatched the lamp off the side table, launching it at the wall with force. It smashed into many pieces, Severus still seething in anger, fighting to control his outburst.

Phoebe took a few steps away from him warily, but with shock and confusion she questioned his shouted confession quietly, "You're not pure-blood?"

Severus swallowed, calming slightly, realising the impact of his statement. "No… my father was a Muggle," he said, his tone still brusque.

"Your father? But I don't understand - why the insults, and the prejudice…?" Phoebe responded, trying to comprehend, then as it dawned on her, "You bloody hypocrite!" she accused with a snort, then snatching the Potions text back off the coffee table, she flicked open the cover where the owner had written their name and shoved the book towards him.

"So, this _is_ you?" she snapped. Phoebe then plucked the bookmark from the middle of the book, only just now remembering that it was the note that Severus had sent accompanying the parcel of books. She unfolded it, smoothing it flat, then compared the handwriting. She had been right all along, it was marginally different (the writing in the book appeared to have been written years before, as the ink looked aged), but it definitely was written by the same hand.

With slight surprise, Severus looked from the book to Phoebe, "Yes," he answered bitterly, with a small nod.

"What does it mean?" Phoebe asked, not understanding the title he had used for himself.

"My mother's maiden name was _Prince_," he explained, concisely.

Phoebe acknowledged her understanding with a nodded sigh. "She was a pure-blood witch?" she queried, and he confirmed her question with a nod, but she still could not understand his attitude.

"Why, Severus? Why do you hate this part of yourself… your Muggle heritage?" Phoebe asked, bewildered.

Severus swallowed again, pausing before he answered, "Because I hated _him_, I hated my father. Many times he was violent toward my mother. I never understood why she tolerated it - she was a witch she did not have to… yet she did!" he said with a frown of confusion. "For many years she put up with the useless, worthless man," he continued, his explanation steeped in a rare display of emotion.

Phoebe was shocked by his admission. She could see his hurt and her concern grew for the man. "What about you, did he hurt you?" Phoebe asked, almost afraid of the answer she already suspected.

Severus gave her a sharp look, then looked away, his shoulders sagging slightly, "When I was very young," he admitted quietly. "Though he never dared when I became older," he continued defiantly, straightening himself, his contempt for the man evident in his voice.

Phoebe looked at him with compassion, "Severus, I'm sorry," she said. He did not respond. She dropped the Potion book onto the couch and approached him, placing a hand on his arm and the other on his chest, her touch encouraging him to face her.

Relieved, she felt him place his arm around her and pull her close, "It is ancient history," he said, in an attempt to be dismissive, "he is no longer alive, neither of them are, in fact."

"You need to tell me these things about yourself, Severus, so I can understand," Phoebe appealed, looking up at him. "Please, I _want_ to know you, everything about you."

A few moments passed silently, "We aren't all like _that_, you know, like your father," she assured, clinging to him, feeling suddenly exhausted now herself.

She felt him nod as her head rested against his chest, "I know that now," he responded, softly, "but I was blinded by my hate of my father when I was young - it was a mistake. I regret my behaviour now, I regret being so easily led." Then Phoebe felt him sigh silently, "Not any more - I make my own decisions now," he affirmed, with conviction.

Phoebe smiled, she felt proud of the man, knowing somehow that he was definitely genuine about his remorse. It baffled her to think that others could not see it, then conceded that he was obviously not as open with everyone else as he was with her. 'It was a shame,' she thought, 'everyone would see he was such a remarkable man if they only took the time to get to know him, to gain his trust and trust him in return, like Dumbledore had done.' The Headmaster had accepted Severus, even to the point of caring about him. Phoebe felt thankful that Severus had at least had the respect and support of the Headmaster in his life.

She reached her arms around the dark man's neck and gave him a reassuring hug. Cupping her hand on his cheek, she ran her thumb along his cheekbone, then stretched up on her toes to kiss him tenderly on his lips.

He returned the kiss, deepening it until it was a very passionate exchange. "Phoebe, I am sorry," he finally whispered to her, "It has been... difficult lately, I am not myself," he explained.

"I understand, Severus, I can see this is hard on you. When all this has ended, we can start over, it will be alright, I promise," Phoebe replied, reassuring him, ignoring completely the assumption she just made that there would even _be_ an _end_, and that Severus would come through it unscathed.

The man sighed gratefully, pulling her close and holding her tight, kissing her firmly on the top of her head. "I have made some progress," he suddenly revealed quietly.

Gasping, Phoebe pushed him away a little and looked up at his face in shock, "What? Oh my God… really?" she asked, hardly daring to breathe, chills suddenly creeping up her back.

He gave her a tiny nod.

Her hands were beginning to tremble, she had wanted Severus to tell her what was happening, to confide in her, but she hadn't really prepared herself mentally or emotionally for details.

"Phoebe… I think you should sit down," Severus suddenly urged her, evaluating her, a worried expression spreading across his face. He gestured for her to sit on the couch but maintained an arm around her for support. "You are shaking… and you look very pale."

She obeyed his request, giving merit to his sudden concern when she took a step toward the couch and started to feel quite faint. She began to feel clammy and a little ill as she also began to experience the same tightness all over she had felt when Tonks was at the cottage with her a number of weeks ago. This time the constriction was so strong it seemed to restrict her breathing, and a rushing of blood in her ears worsened the headache she had been suffering for the past couple of hours. Frowning and groaning at her discomfort, she rubbed her hand over her tight baby belly to try to soothe the distressing sensation. Her knees suddenly began to buckle beneath her and when she grappled for Severus in an attempt to save herself, she thankfully felt him quickly scoop her up into his arms and carry her safely to the couch, where he kneeled on one knee in front of her.

"Phoebe?" he said, cupping her cheek with one of his hands trying to get her to look directly into his eyes, considerable concern now expressed in his voice. However she barely noticed him, she felt so dizzy and suddenly it seemed as if the room became quite dark, rather too quickly.

"Phoebe!"

She heard Severus' anxious voice echo faintly from afar. 'He's too far away, much too far away,' she thought, starting to panic. She tried to call his name and reach out for him, but the smothering darkness closed in on her completely… and she knew no more.


	26. Chapter 26  To Those Who Ask

Severus isn't at his best... will he be able to hold it together to save Phoebe...?

Begging for reviews... it's not pretty... please save me from this shameful display!!

**Chapter 26**_ - To Those Who Ask_

"Phoebe!" Severus almost shouted, shaking the woman slightly as she slumped unconscious into his arms. He himself was finding it difficult to breathe just now, fear gripping his body, feeling so out of control of everything at that moment. He couldn't think, his mind was blank - what was he supposed to do?

These feelings of panic were so unfamiliar to the dark man, he could normally think so quickly and clearly in a crisis, he closed his eyes and inhaled deep breaths, trying to calm himself, although he found he was still unable to focus.

Severus lowered Phoebe to the couch and pushed himself to his feet, stepping back away from the unconscious woman in a desperate attempt to gather himself. He turned away from her to face the wall, leaning against it, feeling the cool, smooth surface against his forehead. His eyes closed once more and he tried to think. Phoebe needed him, his child needed him… damn it, why couldn't he think!?

Growling in frustration, the man slammed his closed fist hard against the wall, his mind was failing him for the first time he could remember - ever! He had to concentrate, to employ his Occlumency skills. For Merlin's sake, if he could repel the Dark Lord's attempted mind invasions with his discipline, surely he could regain his composure now that Phoebe was relying on him!

'Perhaps this was the difference,' he thought suddenly, 'it was Phoebe who needed him. Someone who was important to him, someone he cared about!'

Severus' emotions were interfering - he knew he had never felt so connected to anyone before and he now had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach about his own future. As ridiculous it he knew it sounded, Severus felt Phoebe were being ripped away from him, as though he were being punished for everything horrid he had ever done in his life. It was excruciating and so terrifying to him that it was preventing him from functioning normally.

Suddenly he scoffed aloud at himself. How many times had he ridiculed those who did not have the discipline to control their emotions? How many times had he scorned the likes of Harry Potter for wearing their hearts on their sleeves?

But Severus was just now discovering that it wasn't so easy, after all, to dismiss such feelings. And it didn't help that he was still somewhat exhausted from the previous evenings events, his weary mind foggy and slow to react to the urgency of the situation.

Determinedly, Severus now gritted his teeth and began to concentrate wholly on emptying his mind of all thoughts and emotion, he refused to allow this to continue to affect him.

Taking long slow breaths and willing himself to relax bit by bit, he soon felt the feelings of panic begin to subside, allowing clear, concise thoughts to take their place as his Occlumency skill finally won out over his emotion.

'I have to find out what was wrong with Phoebe if I am to help her!' he thought, as his mind's usual quick wit and clarity returned.

Turning back to the couch, Severus drew his wand and approached the woman. In a smooth movement he ran the wand along the length of her body about a foot above her. 'Diag-nos-tic,' he thought clearly and without effort, having mastered the art of non-verbal spells in his youth with extreme ease.

Instantaneously her vital statistics entered his mind - pulse, respirations, temperature and blood pressure. A secondary set appeared along side - her unborn child's.

Severus analysed them quickly. Phoebe's pulse and respiration seemed a little high, though not abnormal, her temperature seemed normal, though it was clear her blood pressure was dangerously high. He quickly checked the baby's, all on the high end of normal, though the child appeared to be in no immediate danger.

He placed a hand on Phoebe's swollen belly and within moments was rewarded with a strong movement of the baby. Satisfied, he then turned his attention back to the mother, who was still unconscious.

He needed to get her blood pressure down as quickly as possible, Severus knew she would be in danger of a seizure if it remained high, and then the baby would certainly be at risk.

Severus called for Erlin to assist him but found the house-elf absent from the cottage yet again. The man cursed silently to himself, he had wanted to ask the creature if there were any potion making ingredients in the cottage at all. He went into the kitchen and not knowing where to look for them, he just began searching through all the cupboards.

A few gentle relaxation potions existed that could be made from any basic home stock ingredients quite quickly. Another remedy Severus considered giving to the woman - a calming potion which was primarily used for another purpose - Quellin. However he soon remembered Phoebe had already taken a dose today and immediately conceded that it was pointless giving her another dose, it was clearly ineffective in this instance.

After a few minutes unsuccessfully ransacking the cupboards, Severus withdrew his wand and summoned the house-elf magically.

Erlin appeared with a _pop_ in the middle of the kitchen doorway.

"You called Master?" he said to Severus.

"Erlin, are there any potion ingredients here?" Severus demanded urgently.

"No Master, not in here. All those ingredients are stored elsewhere." Erlin announced, seeming oddly pleased with himself.

Severus gritted his teeth in frustration, "Where are they kept, Erlin," he asked, certain that the house-elf must either be acting unhelpful deliberately, or was just plain _thick_.

"What is it you require, Sir?" Erlin responded, still smiling.

"Damn it, Erlin! Just tell me where they are," Severus snarled, his desperation wearing his patience down extremely quickly.

"The hall cupboard, Master," answered Erlin, his expression quickly turning serious. "What is the trouble, Master?" he asked, hurrying ahead of Severus to the hallway to open the cupboard, not noticing Phoebe on the couch.

"Phoebe needs a remedy - is there Lavender in the supplies? And Wormwood?" Severus asked, hurrying after the house-elf. "And I need a simple pain relieving potion."

"Is Mistress Phoebe unwell, Master?" Erlin asked, worried.

"Yes, Erlin, very unwell," Severus said nodding, gesturing toward the unconscious woman for the benefit of the house-elf, before quickly rummaging through the stores of ingredients and equipment in the cupboard.

"Yes Master, the Lavender is on the left and the Wormwood toward the back. Allow me sir, I will be quicker," Erlin suggested, finally recognising the urgency in the situation, immediately retrieving the required packages for the dark man as he backed away to allow the house-elf to assist. "Is there anything else you require, Master?" Erlin asked, passing the bottle of pain reliever to the Wizard.

"The cauldron," Severus ordered, " heat two pints of water to just below boiling point, Erlin!"

Ten minutes later, Severus was stirring a potion in its final stages, then he filled a vial and set it aside to cool. Again he examined the unconscious woman, methodically performing the diagnostic spell over her to check her blood pressure status. He noted it was still alarmingly high.

Cradling Phoebe's head and shoulders in his arm, Severus then tipped a few drops of the cooled potion from the vial onto Phoebe's tongue, analysing the effect on her blood pressure after a couple of minutes. Not noticing any change, Severus gave her more and then checked again a few minutes later. After her third dose, the wizard saw a drop in her blood pressure results.

He did not give Phoebe another dose, but simply waited until the potion stopped reducing her blood pressure. He did not want to overdose, especially as he did not have an antidote ready and waiting, as low blood pressure would be equally as dangerous for her.

As Phoebe's blood pressure continued to drop, he noticed her begin to stir.

"Phoebe?" he spoke gently.

She groaned softly in response and he spoke again to reassure her.

"You are fine, I am here."

Eventually her eyes fluttered open. "Severus…" she said softly. She frowned and lifted her hand to her head, groaning again.

Resting the woman back onto the couch, Severus reached for the bottle of pain relieving potion and measured a dose onto a spoon. "Here," he said as he offered it to her, "this will help relieve your headache."

She accepted the potion and when it took effect a few moments later, she thanked him. He watched her closely when she relaxed in relief as her pain significantly diminished.

"What happened?" Phoebe murmured, holding her hand over her eyes.

"Your blood pressure was elevated," Severus informed her. "How do you feel?

"A bit dizzy still," she answered, after a short pause.

"Here, have a little more of this," he offered, holding out the original potion vial for her. " Just a small mouthful," he insisted.

She took her hands away from her eyes and accepted the vial from him, taking the mouthful as instructed.

As Severus took back the vial, he suddenly grasped his left forearm as his Dark Mark burned unexpectedly. He hissed angrily, both to admonish himself for reacting as he did, and as an expression of his frustration at the extremely bad timing.

"What is it?" Phoebe asked, concerned.

Severus looked around himself, trying to decide what to do. "I have been summoned by the Dark Lord," he answered bitterly, shaking his head.

Phoebe closed her eyes and shielded them with her hand again. "Go, Severus," she said, as he eyed her closely. She then looked at him again, "Go - I will be alright now, I'm feeling much better." Though Severus recognised that she had all but lied.

Severus remained undecided for another moment, and then nodding, realising he had no choice, Severus looked to the house-elf, "Erlin, keep a close eye on Phoebe, she is not to move from there. If she takes a turn for the worse, take her outside and fetch the Headmistress."

"I'll be okay, Severus-" Phoebe started to reassure him, but he cut her off as he stood to leave.

"I will return as soon as I can. Rest, you are not well yet!" he insisted, adamantly.

Severus again turned to the house-elf and pointed at Phoebe. "She is NOT to move!" he ordered, almost threateningly.

"Yes, Master," Erlin responded, assuredly.

As satisfied as he could be, Severus collected his coat and cloak from the bedroom and exited onto Cauldron Lane, dragging the garments on as he went. It was here that he cursed aloud his frustration of the position he was in, rubbing his forehead with his fingers and looking back toward the cottage. Severus was counting on the fact that Phoebe had an affection for the house-elf and would remain resting in an effort to ensure Erlin would not get in trouble from the Wizard, though Severus was still unsure how long he would be gone for. She would need to move eventually he realised, if only to venture to the bathroom. He was reluctant to leave the woman whilst she were still so vulnerable, but the remnant burning sensation on his forearm reminded him he _had_ to go. Shaking his head, then taking a few deep breaths, he prepared himself for his encounter with his dark Master and Disapparated to Lamnordron.

Reappearing just outside the boundary of the castle ruins, apprehension began to creep up on the dark man. The last time he had left here, he knew he had barely escaped a harsh punishment for failure to execute Voldemort's orders completely and it had scarcely been twelve hours since the Dark Lord had excused him from duty. It was concerning that he was being recalled so soon. Had Lucius or Bellatrix informed the Dark Lord of Narcissa's suspicions?

He thought briefly of Phoebe, still in distress back at the cottage in Cauldron Lane. It was not too late, he could abandon his duty, turn and run. Was this risk worth taking, considering what price he would pay - or what Phoebe would pay - if this encounter turned lethal?

'Erlin would do his duty,' Severus thought to himself, somewhat appeasing his rising concern, 'Phoebe will be safe. Besides, what future will we all have if I do not follow through? I have no choice… I really have no choice.'

Swallowing dryly, not quite having convinced himself, Severus steeled himself and began to take the steps through the ruins toward the remaining useable tower.

As he entered through the door atop the stone staircase, he was somewhat disconcerted to find two of the Wizards that he had left the evening before, and Bellatrix, in the same position, kneeling before the Dark Lord. The site left him feeling suspicious and his apprehension increased even more so.

Lucius and Rodolphus were bowing their heads in what appeared to be a manner of acceptance as Severus approached and knelt before the feared Wizard.

"My Lord," Severus said, keeping his eyes averted until he had calmed his newest sense of trepidation to almost non-existence.

"Snape," Voldemort said curtly, accompanied by a small nod. "Glad you could make it so … promptly," he said, the words seeming to slide from his mouth like a slithering viper, the implication of Severus' tardiness just as deadly.

Severus said nothing. What could he possibly say, in response to the comment, that would spare him from any ire from his Master? Best to just let it be and trust that the Dark Lord were only needling him.

As hoped, Voldemort, after a short glare at the dark man, continued with his business. "I was just expressing to Lucius that it is time for our next assault."

Relieved that his judgement was correct, Severus let out the breath he had only just now realised he was holding, as slowly and evenly as possible. These first few tense minutes proved to Severus that this meeting with the Dark Lord was going to require intense application if he was to maintain his countenance of a calm and cool demeanour as usual, especially given his already shaken defensive method.

"Yes, my Lord, I would agree." '_I would be foolish not to,'_ Severus thought, quickly.

"Quite," Voldemort countered, leaving Severus to very briefly worry if there were still a chink in his armour.

The Dark Lord continued, "The Werewolf - Lupin," he announced coldly, "he remains one of the few confidants of the Boy."

"Yes, my Lord, that is so," Severus answered immediately. He had known for quite a while now that Lupin's days would be numbered. "Consider it done."

"Exceptional," Voldemort responded, accompanied by the hollow smile that represented anything but happiness.

"My Lord," Severus said as he rose from his kneeling position and turned to leave. The dark man sensed Lucius, Rodolphus and Bellatrix follow his lead. 'Curious,' he suddenly thought, 'perhaps they had received discipline from their Master regarding seniority within the ranks.'

"Oh and Snape," came the Dark Lord's voice, chillingly, "I wish for the captive to be brought directly to me - alive."

Severus swung around perhaps a little too quickly in his astonishment, "Alive, my Lord?"

"Yes," Voldemort crooned smoothly, "I would like to examine his mind personally, this time."

Severus now noticed the small smirks of the other Death Eaters in the room as he quickly glanced in their directions when they passed by him. Clearly they had already been informed of the Dark Lord's request and were relishing in the idea of the vicious destiny awaiting the targeted werewolf.

"Of course, if it is your wish, my Lord," Severus said with a small nod, willing his body not to respond to the feelings of revulsion and defiant rebellion that began pooling in his stomach. The repercussions of the Dark Lord's personal involvement would be devastating for Remus Lupin.

In a split second, Severus had wiped the thoughts from his mind. He was not in a position to feel sorry for Lupin, he had a job to do. He knew he would never be able to save his former classmate, not with Lucius and Rodolphus now also involved, so he must dismiss the emotion from the task!

After a moment it was clear that the Dark Lord had no more need of Severus' attentions and the dark man turned once more and followed Bellatrix, her husband and brother-in-law out the door.

Past Lamnordron's boundary, Severus arranged a meeting at Spinner's End with the other Death Eaters. Then remembering that Draco had spent the night in Severus' own room, he specified a time some two hours from the present. He would need to ensure Draco, if he was indeed still present at his own house, was prepared for a reconciliation with his father and that Severus himself had answers for his own absence last night. Besides, he really should sort out the problem with Phoebe first. Two hours should allow him enough time to tend to both complications.

Arriving at Cauldron Lane, Severus quickly stepped up to the doorway of the cottage, which he knew would shield him from sight. Stopping momentarily to peer down the street toward Hogsmeade, the dark man noticed the increase of pedestrian activity. He automatically suspected that the news of the break-out at Azkaban had been made public amongst the Wizarding community and members of the Ministry of Magic's security forces would now be patrolling far more frequently in this area, given its proximity to Hogwarts. Instinctively Severus knew Hogwarts was an important piece of real estate to the Ministry. Sooner or later he also knew (as would the Ministry) that Voldemort would attempt to _take_ the school. The magic imbued within the castle's walls was ancient and powerful, surely a weapon irresistible to the Dark Lord.

Snapping his attention back to the cottage, he knocked on the door. It was not safe for him to dwell on the doorstep, too many were counting on his success, whether they knew it or not.

The house-elf opened the door to him moments later, stepping aside to let him in.

"How is she?" Severus asked, as he passed by.

"I am fine, Severus," Phoebe answered for Erlin, "I told you I would be." Severus noticed her voice contained a trace of resentment.

Nodding once sardonically to the house-elf, the dark man did not bother to respond. Instead he swooped over and crouched beside her. Withdrawing his wand, he performed the diagnostic spell over her again. He studied the results within his mind, then feeling satisfied, he breathed a sigh.

"So it seems." He watched as the house-elf left the room.

"How did things go?" she asked him.

Despite her acceptable vital results, Severus still worried for her health. "Do not concern yourself-" he began, dismissively.

"Please don't keep me in the dark, Severus… please," she practically begged, staring at him, her eyes glistening as they pleaded with him.

He tore his own eyes away from her intense gaze, uncertainty clouding his judgement, he wasn't sure what was the best thing to do for her. Severus was positive Phoebe was ill as a direct result of being involved with the stresses of this war, and especially dealing with the backlash of Severus' own experiences, but it seemed she was equally strained by being excluded. He knew she worried about him, he could see it in her face each time he had to leave. It seemed she was under strain no matter what he did.

He stood, turned and walked a few steps away from the woman, rubbing his hands over his eyes. Thoughts of the many complications and obstacles Phoebe had caused since entering his life began swimming through his mind. What he wouldn't give to be able to concentrate wholly on his job for the Order right now, without the distraction of her welfare. It was becoming too difficult, too much! He shook his head, the feelings of torment almost overwhelming him.

It was times like this that Severus felt the loss of the Headmaster the most. He felt he were being stretched too thin and needed both the advice and help of the older wizard. A flicker of pain shot through him at the thought of Dumbledore and he fought hard to diffuse it. He leaned onto the knuckles of his hands, which he had rested on the top of a nearby hip-high cabinet.

'What would _he_ do?' he asked himself, knowing the Headmaster would have the answer, 'What would Dumbledore do?'

Severus' frustration turned briefly to bitterness and a startling helplessness. He tried desperately to grasp the answer but came up empty and his frantic mind screamed out angrily, 'You forced me into this ALONE… and now I need help. Damn you, help me old man… _help me_!'


	27. Chapter 27  Challenge

Severus sorts out his complications, somewhat lightens his burden, rises successfully to a challenge issued and is surprised by a startling revelation...

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**Chapter 27** _- Challenge_

Severus felt the soothing touch of Phoebe grasping his upper arm. He turned to face her, then took her gratefully in a firm embrace. He couldn't believe he had nearly wished her away so soon after feeling so terrified of losing her.

As he held her, thoughts of trust and fate filled his head. He remembered a speech about love and hope and about not thinking of his child as an obstacle. The memory of Phoebe's rendition of Tonks' declaration of trust in him. And the knowledge that Molly and Arthur Weasley, Lupin and possibly Minerva McGonagall also, must have remained optimistic at the least about Severus and his motives, as they evidently had not insisted Tonks remove Phoebe from the safe house. Though most importantly, Phoebe was here, here for him - her words echoed to Severus now, spoken to him whilst in his deepest moment of distress, '_You are not alone_'.

"Severus, let me help you… please, share your burden with me. I need to be useful in some way," she appealed, pulling away from the embrace and taking his hand in hers.

He frowned a little as he contemplated her. And here _she_ was, begging again to be allowed to help him. Was he supposed to tell her, could she help? All this time he had been trying to protect her; was it possible he had been making things worse… both for her and himself?

Looking away from her, he recalled that Dumbledore had already given Phoebe a way to communicate with other members of the Order - the message sphere - and he now realised that the backup plans had already been set in place. She _was_ the way -Dumbledore had helped him already, and Severus instantly recognised that from the moment the Headmaster had met Phoebe, he knew she would play a role in this war - alongside Snape.

'Fate indeed!' he thought a little scornfully, 'The old man practically set this up.'

Quite frankly though, Severus was astonished that he had not seen the connection before now, and as he turned back to Phoebe, he made a decision.

"Sit down, I will tell you what I have discovered."

Sitting with her on the couch, Severus quickly ran through his mind what he should tell her and where to begin, though before he did he would make certain of one thing.

"I want you to assure me that you will tell me immediately if you begin feeling unwell at all in the future. And if I am not available, you must promise to use the message sphere to alert an ally to help you at once. I will not have this role be your sacrifice. Do you understand?" Severus asked, his intense expression very serious and clearly non-negotiable.

"Role? What role?" she responded, confused.

"You wish to be my confidant… I shall share my burden with you," he announced candidly.

He watched as her eyes grew wide and she drew in a sharp breath in astonishment, but moments later she began to nod her acceptance.

"Yes… yes, you have my word, Severus."

Severus closed his eyes briefly and swallowed, "The Dark Lord is... immortal."

The shock at this revelation was evident on the woman's face, though she did not interrupt, Severus only felt her hand grasp his a little tighter.

"The means by which He has achieved immortality, was by the use of very dark magic. He has split his soul and encased the torn fragment in an object known as a Horcrux. The Dark Lord has done this, not only once, but at least six times, therefore creating seven pieces of soul including the original which remains intact within his body.

Phoebe visibly paled in front of him.

"Whilst the Horcruxes remain, the Dark Lord cannot be killed. Harry Potter cannot hope to fulfil the prophecy."

It was only now that Phoebe found her voice, "Can he be stopped, Severus? Is Harry's success even possible now?"

"Yes, the Dark Lord can still be stopped. His immortality remains only so long as his Horcruxes exist. It is possible to destroy them - in fact, I know at least two have been destroyed already."

"Is it your job to destroy these… Horcruxes?" Phoebe asked, grappling with the terminology, her voice shaking slightly.

"No, it is my job to identify and locate the Horcruxes, and it is this information that I will pass on to you. If anything should happen to me, you must alert the Order to my fate and inform them of all I have told you."

"But how will I know?" Phoebe asked, clearly distressed at the thought of Severus' demise.

"You must not reveal anything unless you are sure, unless you are certain I am gone, or you may risk ruining everything," Severus commanded. "Do you understand? You may never truly know of my fate, so it is important that you must never reveal what you know unless you are convinced undeniably that I am dead," he verified, absolutely clear his direction must be heeded.

"Yes Severus, I understand," she responded, swallowing dryly.

There was a pause whilst Severus regathered his thoughts. "Now, listen carefully - I have located Hufflepuff's cup. I have seen it at Lamnordron-"

"Hufflepuff? The Hogwarts' Founder?" Phoebe interrupted.

"Yes, but Phoebe, just listen - I do not have time to explain the irrelevant details just now."

Phoebe accepted the direction with a small nod, she seemed to recognise the urgency Severus' voice had begun to take on. "Hufflepuff's cup, right - got it," she repeated, "Now, where did you say…?"

"Lamnordron, however the address is currently un-plottable. That is, the location of the premises is protected by the Fidelus Charm," Severus said. "Unfortunately, I remain unaware of the identity of the Secret Keeper."

"That's a problem, then," Phoebe expressed, a little disheartened, biting gently on her lower lip.

"Yes," Severus responded, surprised, although he soon realised he should not have been. Phoebe was already aware of the basic workings of the Fidelus Charm and its effectiveness.

"But _you_ know the location, you must have been told personally by the Secret Keeper at some stage, how can you not know who it was?" Phoebe questioned, perplexed.

"The Secret Keeper's identity was concealed from me at the time, it was many years ago."

"So, what are you going to do?" asked Phoebe, with concern.

Severus sighed, "I do not know yet, I may have to steal it somehow, though I imagine it will be closely guarded by the Dark Lord." Severus muttered, more to himself than to Phoebe, then as he realised he was rambling, "I will bide my time, not take any risks, there are other Horcruxes to detect in the meantime."

Phoebe nodded without saying anything.

"I need to go," Severus announced, although he did not make to stand immediately. Instead he withdrew his wand and for the last time, performed the diagnostic spell along the length of Phoebe's body. He remained satisfied with her results.

"Rest, the potion will be maintaining your blood pressure presently, though it may increase again with time," he warned. "Remember your promise to me," he added, seriously.

"I will remember, Severus," she answered. "But, what about the baby, was he okay?" she then asked, rubbing her hand over her bulging stomach.

Severus placed his hand over hers, "The baby was never in danger, he is healthy." Phoebe sighed with relief and gazed at Severus, taking his wrist in her grasp of her other hand. He flicked his eyes to her grasp and allowed himself to acknowledge a definite assuage of his previous burden. Reluctantly though, he remembered that burden had not disappeared entirely. "I really must go…" Severus said, this time standing up to leave, "I have a meeting."

"With Death Eaters?" Phoebe asked unexpectedly.

He crouched in front of her, holding her shoulders in his hands, "Yes," he answered concisely. Then, "It will be alright… I know what I am doing," he said, feeling the need to soothe her anxiety.

Severus stood upright once more and turned to the house-elf who had just wandered back in from the kitchen carrying a laden tray. "Erlin, I trust that you will take care of Phoebe to my expectations."

"Yes Master, I will indeed," he assured the dark wizard, "You must be hungry, Mistress," Erlin said, offering the tray to Phoebe.

"Thankyou, Erlin," Phoebe responded, taking the tray from him, then looking up at Severus, who was preparing to leave.

Severus only nodded assuredly at her, then swiftly exited through the door without another word.

The dark man approached the house at the furthest point of Spinner's End with an amount of uncertainty. Did he really know what he was doing? He had been thinking back to Lucius' demeanour, kneeled in front of the Dark Lord earlier that afternoon. Uneasiness settled within his chest as he doubted his initial thoughts that the Dark Lord had admonished the trio for contesting Severus' authority. It now occurred to him that the Dark Lord would likely encourage such a challenge, to keep all his followers a little unbalanced and never fully secure in their position within His ranks. Such insecurity would also ensure all his supporters would always put in full effort, in order to try to please Him continually - consistently. Severus closed his eyes briefly and breathed a sigh, wondering how he had ever managed to get this embroiled in such a virulent game of cat and mouse.

'Speaking of mice - or rats specifically,' Severus thought, 'how shall I handle Wormtail?' The rat was undoubtedly aware that Draco was present at the Spinner's End address the previous night, and come to think of it, that _Severus_ was not. Severus had been planning to send Draco away and mislead the others into thinking he had just returned home alone for the remainder of the night, but the watchful eyes of his permanent 'house-guest' were fast becoming a greater problem for the dark man. He would need to think of a plausible excuse - and quickly.

As he turned the handle on the front door of his house, he heard a sudden scuttling in the direction of the concealed staircase.

"Be calm, it is only me," he announced to the retreating back of Draco Malfoy. "You would be dead by now anyway Draco if it were not."

This was not quite the truth, but Severus wished to make a point to the teenager about being constantly vigilant. It was much more likely that he would be either caught alive by the Ministry and tried in front of the Wizengamot and subsequently sent to Azkaban, or caught and tortured mercilessly by Death Eaters before being killed - neither side made a habit of killing on the spot. Either way, the wizard's point was made and Draco's abashed expression suggested the young man had likely learned from his mistake. Severus surveyed him a little while longer before he moved into the small kitchen and conjured himself something to eat with his wand. He was actually quite ravenous, though had suppressed the feeling in order to deal with more urgent matters earlier that day.

"Have you eaten, Draco?" he asked casually.

"Yes, sir,' answered Draco immediately.

"Good," he responded curtly, "Is Wormtail here?"

"No, sir. He went out over an hour ago," Draco answered.

"Did he say where he was going?" Severus asked, again casually as he bit into a chicken and salad sandwich.

"No, he just left after he received a message by owl, he didn't tell me anything."

Severus just nodded and appeared unconcerned, although he had an uneasy feeling about who had likely sent the owl. As he swallowed the first mouthful of sandwich, he addressed the boy again, "You will have to leave, I am expecting your father, Rodolphus and Bellatrix very soon - unless of course you wish to be included in our newest attack," Severus said, smoothly, with the barest hint of sarcasm, his piercing stare directed straight at the teenager.

Draco looked sharply up at him, swallowing, "I think I'll go," he agreed with a small nod, gathering up his navy cloak that was draped elegantly over Severus' worn sofa.

"Remember Draco, why I so generously gave up my bedroom for you…"

"Because I had nowhere else to go?" suggested Draco a little tentatively, stopping and looking confused.

Severus gave the boy a small nod, then taking another bite of his sandwich, he ushered him toward the door with his wand, indicating that he should leave immediately. Still seeming unsure of what Severus was getting at, Draco nodded, swung on his cloak and swiftly exited, snapping the latch on the door as he closed it behind him.

Finishing his meal and then washing it down with a large glass of water, Severus waited for the arrival of Lucius and the Lestranges, sitting on his worn sofa, his hands clasped together and his forearms resting on his thighs. The purpose of the meeting was to plan the attack on Remus Lupin and although it was not an overly difficult task, the fact that he must be captured and delivered alive to Voldemort, required a change in their normal tactics. Severus was going over in his mind the strategies that he would suggest, when a knock at his front door alerted the dark man of the Death Eaters arrival.

Severus let them in, ushering them into the sitting room. As they made themselves comfortable, Severus offered a glass of Firewhisky, from the small decanter in the corner of the room, to each of them. They accepted graciously and Severus poured himself a measure, though he would ensure he would not indulge too much in the strong spirit, as he needed to have his wits about him whilst dealing with the likes of Malfoy, Rodolphus and Bellatrix. Their reputations preceded them for a reason, they were cunning and ruthless and had more than enough ambition to wish to acquire control of the Death Eater army. Severus knew from his past experiences with Lucius, that it was his ability to manipulate those around him which was perhaps the blond wizard's most valuable skill. He would not necessarily need to remove Severus physically from the position of Second to the Dark Lord to have his way.

Knowing this, Severus assured himself that he would not become Lucius' puppet, the blond man's days of having Severus as a lap-dog were well and truly over.

"To the Dark Lord," came Lucius' calm voice, raising his glass as he proposed the toast.

"Indeed," Severus responded as the others also agreed, tipping his glass at the blond man and taking only a small sip. Severus then settled himself into his single armchair which faced toward the kitchen and the front door. "Now, down to business - Lupin is to be taken alive," he said, repeating the Dark Lord's orders.

"Yes," Rodolphus crooned, his delight obvious.

Severus gave him a piercing glare, "You are crude, delighting in the suffering of others Rodolphus," he threw at the Death Eater.

Rodolphus just laughed a sarcastic cackle, "Don't flatter _yourself_, Snape. Do not deny that you have frequently enjoyed the suffering of others in _your_ sordid past." At this his smile turned into a sneer, "Everyone is aware of your crimes Severus, I am frankly astounded that you have, so-far, avoided Azkaban."

"Gentlemen… this is not what we are here for," Lucius interrupted, smoothly. "There is no need for accusations, we are… well aware of what drives each of us to do the things we do, let's concentrate on our task, shall we?"

Severus and Rodolphus continued to glare at each other, though neither persisted with the banter.

"I propose a trap, I will be surprised if we will be able to continue to ambush any Order members after the attack on Azkaban," Severus said, now directing his attention and suggestion toward Lucius and Bellatrix, putting an end to the stand-off with Rodolphus.

"He is a close associate of the blood traitors…" said Bellatrix, a curious smile on her face.

"Ah, yes the Weasley clan," responded Lucius in his customary drawl, "excellent suggestion, Bellatrix_. The Burrow_ I believe their hovel is known as, that would be the perfect place to strike."

Severus' stomach clenched at the mention of The Burrow. So this was Lucius' goal, he wished to take out the Weasley family. It was no secret that he loathed the red-headed so called blood traitors, and it really came as no surprise to Severus that he would try to eliminate them, sooner rather than later, under the guise of trapping Lupin.

Now that he thought about it, there was a probability that Lucius had suggested to the Dark Lord to attack Lupin knowing that He would be most likely to approve the attack on the werewolf, because of the Dark Lord's distaste of half-breeds. And Lucius would have known he may be able to wipe out at least some members of the Weasley family as a by-product of the attack, as he was aware of their close relationship.

But this now posed a problem for Severus. Normally he would have let Lucius play out his desires, just to get through each mission with the least resistance and hopefully allow him more time to discover Voldemort's secrets, but The Burrow must remain off limits at this time because Severus knew that Nymphadora was in hiding there. If she were to be discovered it would spell disaster for the dark man. He could offer no excuses for the Auror still being alive, therefore effectively ending his role of spy, probably eliminating any hope of locating the Dark Lord's remaining Horcruxes and preventing Harry Potter from ever being able to vanquish the menacing dark wizard.

Also, Severus knew that Molly Weasley was poised to assist Phoebe in the event that she needed her during her pregnancy or childbirth. And as it was likely Severus could be killed, Phoebe would effectively be left with no-one in direct contact who could help her, or even hear of the information that had been collected by Severus and passed on to her.

"No, The Burrow will be too well protected," Severus countered, "the Order's Headquarters would more likely be the least guarded, and although it has not been used as their meeting place of late, I have reason to believe that the estate will still be occupied from time to time. I will observe the house and track Lupin's movements."

Lucius gave Severus a look of suspicion mixed with anger, "The Burrow is not protected by the Fidelus Charm, it will be far more accessible to Death Eaters. As far as I am aware, _you_ are the only one with access to the Order's Headquarters."

"That may be, though rest assured Lucius, The Burrow is well inhabited by more than one qualified wizard and frequented by many more. You will never take Lupin alive - are you willing to risk the Dark Lord's wrath?" Severus asked, tilting his head slightly toward the blond man, "No - I will track Lupin's movements to and from the Headquarters," insisted Severus, with a finality to his voice.

Lucius hissed in disgust, "Snape, you would do well to take advice from those more senior from time to time, the attack will be successful, I _assure_ you."

"I have earned my right as _Second_ in command, Lucius, I assure _you_!" Severus said dangerously, "Again - do you disagree with the Dark Lord's judgement?"

In an instant Lucius was on his feet, reaching for his wand and levelling it at Severus, fury contorting his features. In a flash Severus met the threat, his wand also held out in front of him, directed steadily toward the blond wizard's chest.

"Listen here you ungrateful little weasel, you may be under the impression that you have seniority here, though we both know who you have to thank for your humble beginnings," Lucius hissed out furiously, now aiming his wand at Severus' throat. "Your time is limited, be sure you use it well!" he threatened insidiously.

Bellatrix and Rodolphus remained seated, smirking at the challenge transpiring before them. Severus kept a close watch on both of them out of the corner of his eye as he snarled his response, "Oh, I am grateful _Lucius_ - after all, where would I be without you?" he asked sarcastically, then allowing his mouth to twist into a nasty smile, "Though I believe you have had your own chance, my friend, and that ended miserably in _Azkaban _- ah yes, by the way, who is it again _you_ have to thank for your escape from prison?" he jeered, though allowing his own fury to lace every word.

Seeing Malfoy's rage fuelled by his snide remarks, he continued, "I will have you know I do intend to use my time here _very_ well - though I believe it will be much longer than even you will witness, Lucius," he said, returning a subtle threat of his own.

Enraged, Lucius looked ready to lunge at Severus but before he could, the front door was opened and both wizards, already on edge, turned and aimed their wands at the intruder.

Wormtail, shocked to find himself on the _pointy_ end of two powerful wizards' wands, immediately raised his hands in a manner of surrender and swallowed dryly.

As both Severus and Lucius recognised Wormtail, they lowered their wands, fortunately the interruption diffused the tension between the two men enough that they did not pursue the physical altercation, though they both continued the stand-off by glaring at one another.

"What's going on here?" asked Wormtail nervously, lowering his hands a little hesitantly.

"Nothing Wormtail, I believe we have come to an agreement," Severus said icily, "Lucius?"

"Naturally Snape," Lucius countered, just as coldly, then finally he desisted with the intense glare at the dark man, though continued to glower as he returned to his seat on the sofa, snatching up his firewhisky and draining the glass.

Snape also took his seat and he continued with his business, "Of course, we still have another dilemma…" he disclosed.

Lucius, Rodolphus and Bellatrix all looked at him curiously.

"The target… he will need to be given the location of Lamnordron, is anyone aware of the identity of the Secret Keeper?"

As all three began to shake their head in the negative, Wormtail spoke up, "Yes, that's easy - it's me," he stated plainly, removing his travelling cloak, heedless of the others' reactions.

Astonishment did not begin to describe the expressions of the other four individuals in the room as they all gaped at Pettigrew.

"You?! You are the Secret Keeper for Lamnordron? No!" cackled out Bellatrix, in sarcastic amusement. It was obvious she did not believe the rat like man.

Wormtail turned toward them, taking in their expressions and suddenly his chest began to swell. "Actually - yes," he answered concisely; positively smug at seeing the shocked looks on the other Death Eaters' faces.

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	28. Chapter 28  The Secret Keeper

Well, well, well - the little rodent has been keeping secrets, hasn't he! What other mysteries might Pettigrew unravel? Severus reflects on what he feels he should have recognised in times gone by and ponders what lies ahead.

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**Chapter 28**_ - The Secret Keeper_

Looking back on it, Severus realised it was around the time the Dark Lord had ordered Severus to apply for a teaching position at Hogwarts to spy on Albus Dumbledore, that he had first been told of the address of the (then new) hide-out for Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Or more specifically, it had been a matter of a week or so _after_ he had heard and passed on his account of the prophecy made by Sybill Trelawney that he, and a room full of other Death Eaters, had been collectively told, by the completely shrouded Secret Keeper, of Lamnordron's location.

'It is possible; based on the timing,' he conceded to himself, 'that the Secret Keeper _could_ have been Wormtail.'

His stomach gave a painful twist when he immediately realised that if he had been aware all those years ago of the identity of the Secret Keeper to Lamnordron he could have avoided the precarious existence in which he found himself today.

Severus vividly remembered the dark days when he was not able to discover, despite his desperate attempts, the identity of Voldemort's spy within the Order of the Phoenix for Dumbledore, resulting in the exposure and ensuing murders of James and Lily Potter and the attempted murder of their infant son by the Dark Lord.

To find out now that the man responsible had been mere feet away from him before that time, and to concede Severus _ought_ to have recognised a clue of some sorts to his identity (as he had known Pettigrew well from their days at Hogwarts) and subsequently _should_ have been able to prevent the disaster, keenly stung the dark man's conscience. 'Another failure,' he thought bitterly of himself, sensing the oppressive cloud that constantly surrounded him, press suffocatingly closer.

Given his audience though, Severus quickly suppressed his dejected thoughts.

"Well, well," Severus remarked, with a small, beguiling chuckle. "Your crowning glory, Wormtail… I am impressed."

Lucius narrowed his eyes at Pettigrew, "Yes… isn't it," he drawled, his tone somewhat ungracious.

Severus suspected the blond wizard rather resented Wormtail's cementing of his position within the Dark Lord's ranks. It had been quite a display of trust the Dark Lord had shown in the rat-like man, to make him Secret Keeper - and so early on - it had been at least fifteen years previous. 'This means fifteen years of obedience to the Dark Lord,' Severus acknowledged, and with an inward smile he mentally raised Pettigrew above Lucius in the proverbial pecking order. 'Well, Lucius had indeed had his chance,' Severus thought amused, recalling the (now destroyed) diary horcrux Severus had learned of from Dumbledore, which Lucius had apparently been entrusted with previous to Voldemort's first downfall. 'Malfoy thoroughly ballsed that up!'

It was tempting to needle Lucius with this comparison, though decided against it when he noticed the poisonous look still on the blond wizard's face. 'It will not be worth the backlash,' he conceded with a tinge of disappointment.

"Well, that is settled then Wormtail, you will need to be present when we bring Lupin to Lamnordron," Severus ordered.

"L... Lupin?" stammered Pettigrew.

Rodolphus nodded, an obscene smile and glittering eyes leaving no doubt of his delight. "Yes, the werewolf will be joining the Dark Lord imminently, Wormtail. And you won't want to miss this… _will_ you?" he insisted, raising his eyebrows in anticipation, his tone distinctly malevolent.

Swallowing, Wormtail just shook his head, reluctantly confirming his agreement.

Severus found it interesting that Wormtail appeared to be struggling with his conscience at that moment. Although, snorting his derision, Severus wondered if it were only Wormtail's cowardice at facing his former best friend that had him nervous. Curiously though, Severus acknowledged that Wormtail _had_ displayed a much more reserved and cowed demeanour in the presence of Rodolphus and Lucius since he had entered the Spinner's End address. Perhaps it was merely his fear of these formidable wizards that had him unnerved. Severus could not feel sure which variance had brought about the altered attitude - he would scrutinise Wormtail a little more closely from now on, he resolved.

The plan was finalised between the five in the room, Severus maintaining the need for him to observe Lupin's movements with regard to twelve Grimmauld Place. "I am certain to discover he will be vulnerable at the house. We will meet back here at my signal," instructed Severus, standing and, not at all subtly, indicating that the discussion was over and directing the three who did not live there, to move to the door.

In a show of restrained defiance, Rodolphus and Bellatrix remained seated and took their time to drain their glasses of the remaining firewhisky, whilst Lucius smirked at Severus smugly. Impatiently, Severus returned an icy glare, barely resisting snarling his demand that they leave immediately. Though fortunately, he recognised that the relationship was fragile enough without displaying even more open hostility and he held his tongue until they finished their drinks and eventually sauntered to the door.

"Snape," they each bid him as they exited through the doorway. Severus just nodded his acknowledgment as they passed by him. When he closed the door, relieved to see the back of them, he heard Wormtail open the concealed door to the staircase behind him. Disappointingly though, the small rat-like man did not immediately retreat up the stairs, instead he turned to Severus with narrowed, accusing eyes.

"So, where did you end up last night?"

Severus did not turn around immediately, he paused to breathe a silent, frustrated sigh, his relief at having avoided the same conversation with Lucius, instantly dissolving.

"I had business, Wormtail," he answered curtly, finally turning, observing Pettigrew's expression and resuming his seat in the armchair.

To Severus' continuing chagrin, Pettigrew snorted quietly in apparent disbelief, though surprisingly did not push the matter further. As it had in fact been a fabrication, Severus chose to act as though he had not noticed Wormtail's doubting response - there was no point drawing more attention to the situation as it were. However he distinctly felt as though the ice he was skating upon had suddenly developed a hairline fracture, he sensed it would only be a matter of time before it shattered beneath him. He knew he could waste no more time - if he were soon to be going under, he'd better start actively seeking the secrets of the Dark Lord; starting with Wormtail.

"One hell of a revelation, Wormtail, I truly had no idea," he remarked, referring to the rat like man's unveiling of his position as the Secret Keeper of Lamnordron. The simpering man's standing amongst the dark side had suddenly become an enigma, and the dark man pondered what other mysteries the rat-like man may be able to unravel. Severus crossed his arms in front of him and leaned back in the armchair, waiting for Pettigrew's response.

"I have a history of being full of surprises, as you may recall Snape," Wormtail said, smugly and Severus suddenly felt a strong urge to hex the smirk from his face, though managed to control himself.

"How in Merlin's name did you manage to fool the Dark Lord of your allegiance all those years ago?" Severus asked, baiting Peter to defend himself.

"I did not need to _fool _him, he has always had my support!"

Severus snorted, "You only caved in fear, Wormtail - or at least that is what you were so desperately trying to convince Lupin and Black of in the Shrieking Shack, was it not?"

Wormtail flinched slightly at the accusation, "The Dark Lord had reason to trust me, I gave him the loyalty he expected. I gave him-"

"You gave him your _friends_, Wormtail, that is what you gave him… you are nothing but a coward," Severus cut across in disgust.

"I am _not_ a coward, I am faithful - there is a difference. He has trusted me and I have proven myself - he would never have entrusted me with the key to his power if he doubted my loyalty…"

Severus froze, ever so momentarily, at the mention of a _key_.

Wormtail did not notice and was continuing with his defence unaware of the vital clue he had just divulged.

"... he made me Secret Keeper and honoured me with his trust." Wormtail was now dragging out a pendant that was dangling from a short chain hidden beneath his robes. "I wear the symbol of his faith in me, reminding me of my commitment to Him," he declared, holding out the ornate, golden key between his thumb and forefinger for Severus to see.

Severus worked hard to suppress his true reaction, ensuring his expression remained completely inscrutable. "Very impressive," he said derisively, "you obviously hold your _trinket_ from the Dark Lord in high esteem. I am positively jealous," he added snidely.

But contrary to his words, Severus knew very well that the _key_ was likely far more than a humble trinket. 'What a fool,' thought Severus with an inward sneer, 'he has perhaps handed me what I seek on a silver platter.'

Wormtail admired the beautifully forged and etched key, "Exquisite, isn't it? It once belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw, I am told," he murmured, enraptured.

This information validated Severus' suspicion, he was positive now that the pendant was indeed the _key to the Dark Lord's power_. And it was becoming evident to Severus that Wormtail had not an ounce of clue what he held so delicately in his grasp. If he did he would surely jump back as if he had been burned and not caress the object lovingly, as he was doing at that moment. _Voldemort's horcrux_ - the product of a murder; for that is the evil act it took to tear a fragment of one's soul. And more repulsive yet was the desire to separate that fragment from its greater, sealing it within an object. No, Wormtail was simply a mule, he was certainly not aware of what he genuinely had been entrusted with.

'Ingenious really,' thought Severus, admiring the Dark Lord's cunning, 'I would never have suspected Wormtail, of all people, to have been selected unwittingly and cleverly manipulated into becoming Voldemort's walking hiding place, and I certainly would never have recognised the _key_ as a horcrux if I had not been so apprised of the various ways in which each may manifest themselves. I almost missed this one as it was, though it stared me in the face for months.' Severus then sneered, 'Wormtail truly is a dunderhead for believing the Dark Lord sincerely trusted him.'

"Really... well I will leave you to your… _fondling_ then, shall I? I am retiring for the evening, goodnight Wormtail." With that Severus stood and swept past the still enamoured wizard and ascended the staircase to his bedroom. It was still quite early, though the dark man was positively exhausted and welcomed an early retirement. Besides, he rather felt he had risked enough consorting with the enemy during the past twenty-four hours, and preferred the luxury of relaxing somewhat and basking in the unexpected victory of discovering yet another one of Voldemort's horcruxes, this time so quickly and easily.

The dark man settled himself into his bed with a huge sigh. A lot had happened since the beginning of his carefully orchestrated invasion of Azkaban the previous night. Although he was able to breathe easier in the privacy of his bedroom, Severus still remained aware of his own vulnerability within these walls. He would, of course, be given warning of any attack, thanks to the wards he had invoked against intruders, but he was all too aware that those wards would never actually prevent such an attack, only hinder it.

He tossed and turned for several minutes, trying to calm his mind enough to fall asleep, though the thoughts of what he _now_ had to do remained steadfast and naggingly insistent within his head. Soon he gave up fighting them and allowed his consciousness to work through each one.

'It seemed Dumbledore's instincts about Peter Pettigrew were justified after all,' thought Severus, 'the pathetic excuse for a man, it turned out, _did_ still have his uses to Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.' Severus had found the man's occupancy of his Spinner's End house growing more and more irritating, but even more than that, his presence had also become a hindrance to the dark man's covert treasonous behaviour recently. If it were not for Dumbledore's request that Wormtail be allowed to remain in the Dark Lord's service for the time being, monitored by Severus, the dark man could not have guaranteed that Pettigrew would have lasted through the war alive, much less recognisable. He had been extremely inclined to hex the little vermin into obscurity. As it turned out, Severus was thankful that he had not succumbed to his violent desires - the _key_ that hung around the rodent's neck would have been difficult to find six feet under.

Severus' thoughts turned to the horcruxes, 'Hufflepuff's cup and Ravenclaw's key – now I am really getting somewhere.' The dark man ran through in his head, the list given to him by the Headmaster many months ago, '_The diary_ - destroyed_, Slytherin's ring_ - destroyed, _the object Dumbledore had hoped to find following a recent lead before his death_ - did the old man find it, was it destroyed?' Severus knew he would need to establish the status of this horcrux with Potter, as he would be the only other person to know. '_Nagini_ - located but not destroyed, _Hufflepuff's cup_ - located but not destroyed, and now _Ravenclaw's key_ - located but not destroyed. Six horcruxes in total, and the seventh part resided within the Dark Lord himself. Severus' job was almost complete, though he was not necessarily convinced the most difficult part was behind him.

'It is time to hand over what I have discovered to Potter,' he acknowledged with apprehension. He knew the boy would be unlikely to respond to any attempt at contact, unless Severus presented a very convincing argument of his unwavering loyalty to the Order, but even then, he admitted, it would be a stretch to get him to listen. So it was with a certain amount of frustration that the dark man conceded that he may never be able to gain Potter's trust. With a soft snort he wondered whether that would have been possible even if _none_ of the events of the previous twelve months had happened, or at least had not involved himself.

'So _how_ will I send any messages and pass on the information?' came his next thought, 'Surely I cannot risk anything but a personal account.' Severus then almost chuckled at the notion. The idea that he hoped to remain in Potter's presence long enough to actually communicate effectively with him, without the boy attempting to hex him into oblivion, was frankly ridiculous.

'Still, I have to try… my discoveries are pointless, even detrimental, unless they are delivered securely to the right person.' After another moment of thought, 'Perhaps a Pensieve memory,' he suggested to himself, 'he may accept the information this way… I am sure the Headmaster has explained how difficult they are to forge or alter convincingly… he would have to recognise them as the truth.'

"Ah, but the boy is stubborn!" Severus whispered harshly in frustration, "this is going to be nearly impossible," and he rolled his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands to them in exasperation. But Severus' mind clung to the one word which allowed him to maintain some semblance of hope, '_nearly_ impossible', and only time would reveal the truth of success, as he knew he had no other choice but to try.

After a moment he stopped pressing, but he left his hands lightly covering his eyes, he was not looking forward to this…

Severus suddenly sneered inwardly at himself. Merlin, it almost seemed as if he was _afraid_ of the encounter with Potter, he had almost found himself hoping not to have to face him in person. His memories of the night he had ended up on the Astronomy Tower, backed into a corner, forced to follow the ridiculous orders of the old man so he himself would not fall to the Unbreakable Vow, suddenly pierced his heart. And if he truly looked deep within himself, he would discover he _was_ actually a little afraid. He was afraid of what a conversation with Potter would yield if the subject of _that night_ was broached, and he knew it definitely would be.

In actual fact it would be less like a conversation and more like an argument. Potter would scream that he was a _coward_ again, demanding to know what happened on the Tower, demanding to know why Severus had not saved the Headmaster - for it surely must be evident now, to the entire wizarding community, that the dark man was involved in some way in the Headmaster's death. Hagrid, it seemed, certainly blamed him. And then Severus would be forced to defend himself, to explain the unexplainable set of circumstances that had led to the reprehensible act he had committed on the Tower, even though at times he had dejectedly pondered whether there may have been substance to the boy's unrelated accusation of cowardice. But Severus had been there, he knew what had transpired on the Tower, Potter had not seen, had not witnessed how difficult it had been to follow through with the old wizard's orders. It had almost broken him, but he had found a place deep within himself that night, a place that harboured all the hate from his tormented life since his childhood. It had been enough to fuel the fatal curse that took the one true friend of Severus Snape, and left him to fight alone.

Many nights Severus had replayed in his head the events leading up to his having to kill the Headmaster, wondering if, and wishing there had been, some other way. A third option, a loophole, an ally, anything that would have given Severus a choice.

'But I did have a choice, and I made it,' his mutinous mind accused, 'I chose to live, I chose to follow Dumbledore's orders to save myself! Potter is right, I could so easily have-'

He quickly took away his hands covering his eyes. "Enough of this!" he hissed, irate with himself. His guilt and regret were luxurious burdens he could not afford to carry during these tumultuous times, so he pushed the feelings and thoughts away in a clean sweep by his well practiced Occlumency technique. Now, with nothing more than a blank canvas within his mind to focus upon, the dark man promptly sank into a surprisingly restful sleep.

Severus woke early the next morning, refreshed after the restful night. He suspected it had been a very long time since the ever preset dreams and nightmares had not interrupted his sleep.

He cleaned himself up and dressed in a fresh set of his usual black clothes and adorned his cloak - well he cleaned all except his hair, he always seemed to forget his hair. It was greasy as usual, but he had come to accept that about himself, and taking in his reflection that was bouncing back at him from his bathroom mirror, he sighed a little as he scrutinised his appearance. Severus had never considered himself an attractive man, imposing - yes, intelligent - yes, but never attractive. Consequently he had learned to rely on his other traits to earn his accolades and capture the attention of the opposite sex.

Today was no different, he saw the mysterious, self confidant (but not attractive) wizard staring out from the mirror, yet today he was almost shocked when he saw not only his own reflection staring back at him, but that of his _father_ as well. It was quite jarring for the dark man to suddenly acknowledge the strong physical resemblance to his paternal parent. He touched his own face, remembering the very few times he had reached out as a small child to stroke his fathers features as the man held him. The memory was overflowing with the feeling of adoration. The simple, yet powerful adoration a child held for his parents for no reason at all except that they were there, that they were the child's mother and father. Parents did not need to earn that from a child, it was given freely and without expectation - though it was not necessarily forever. Severus had quickly learned that his own father had not earned the right for that gift to continue and his hate for his Muggle father had then developed within a few short years.

Looking defiantly into the reflection he noticed the similarities blur and fade - he was _not_ his father, he would _never_ be his father. Taking in a deep breath, Severus turned away from his reflection, focused his defences and left the room - he had his own destiny to face.

Clickty click, clickity click, clickity click... you get the message, dontcha? ;) PLEASE!!


	29. Chapter 29  Witness

Something causes Severus to fly into a violent rage again as he plans to hand over his important discoveries...

**Chapter 29**_ - __Witness_

Severus did not encounter Wormtail as he made his way through the house, stopping briefly to prepare a little breakfast for himself in the small kitchen. But as he approached the front door to exit, he changed his mind and went back through the kitchen and descended down the cellar steps to his makeshift laboratory.

Wordlessly invoking the lamps hanging on the wall to flicker into a soft glowing light, Severus swept his gaze over the workbench and noted several minute changes to how he remembered he had left his equipment. He made an impatient noise with his tongue as he determined that Wormtail had clearly been snooping amongst his brewing.

It was not as though he had thought the idiotic man would pass up the opportunity, he and Dumbledore had suspected all along that Wormtail was residing at the Spinner's End house to spy on him for the Dark Lord, but it irked the dark man nonetheless.

Snorting scornfully, Severus thought that Wormtail probably wouldn't know what he was looking at anyway, he remembered the small man was lacking in potions talent back in their days at Hogwarts. It was unlikely that he had improved much over time as he had largely spent that time in his animagus form of a rat, and a lazy one at that!

Nevertheless, Severus had made sure to store any suspect completed potions in his own bedroom, concealed and secure. The dark man had also taken measures to cleverly label any dubious ingredients incorrectly so as not to rouse suspicion. The rat-like man was still lazy, and Severus felt confident that he would not have bothered to verify the contents of the ingredient jars.

Striding to the corner of the room, Severus immediately found what he came for. A large bottle of Polyjuice potion was stored on the shelf, and snatching up a number of empty vials from the bench beside him, he proceeded to decant the potion into two of them and sealed them with their small corks. After charming all the vials with a non-shattering spell, he placed them securely into the concealed pockets of the left side of his coat along with the remaining empty vials. He had already replenished his portable stock of Draught of Living Death, including the antidote, from his secure bedroom storage place shortly after returning from the attack on Nymphadora, and these were again stored in the right side pockets. He now gently felt for these to reassure himself that they remained intact. He then began to scan the room for any other potentially useful items or potions and upon seeing his stock of completed Veritaserum, he took up the one tiny bottle, cast the non-shattering spell and stowed it within his robes also.

'It is a blessing that only a few drops are required for truth telling,' Severus thought, as he contemplated the process it had taken to brew, whilst he pressed the small bottle securely into the depths of his pocket.

The truth serum took just over a month to brew and the yield was always low, it was required to be evaporated time and time again in order to achieve the desired potency, resulting in a meagre volume of completed potion. This is perhaps why it was such a rare and valuable commodity, it took a practiced skill to brew the concoction correctly, the time and dedication it took to brew was often beyond many wizard's tolerance or concentration, and the yield was always small - only ever producing one to two small bottles from a large cauldron full of raw ingredients.

Satisfied that he had taken everything that he thought may be useful, Severus finally left the cellar laboratory, extinguishing the lamps as he went, ascending the stairs and exiting the house.

Apparating from the still dark path, Severus reappeared in another familiar street, a street that hid a house that until fairly recently, only a matter of a few months ago, the dark man had routinely visited to deliver his newest discoveries and intelligence for the Order of the Phoenix - Grimmauld Place.

Maintaining a good distance from the residence, Severus watched the house in the early morning dim light, remaining completely hidden himself, shrouded by the shadow cast by a tall brick fence across the street from number sixteen. The air was cold and a mist escaped with every breath he expired.

While he monitored the house, Severus again contemplated how he would deliver his newly discovered horcrux information to Potter. Should he trust anyone else with the important details? The thought left him feeling uneasy, the light side had been fooled before, first by Pettigrew, then by Barty Crouch Jnr posing as Mad-eye Moody. It was just too great a chance to take, as unlikely as it may be that whomever he chose to pass on the secret would turn out to be a traitor, there remained _that chance_ in Severus' eyes. His own life depended on the security of this transaction, not to mention the lives of future generations of wizards. So regardless of the knot twisting within his stomach at that moment, Severus conceded he could not trust anyone other than Potter.

His mind immediately flicked to a person he _had_ already trusted - Phoebe. Almost instantaneously, the dark man contemplated letting Phoebe be the one to confront Potter, to tell him of Severus' discoveries. 'She being a Muggle would pose no threat to the boy and as he had grown up in the Muggle world, he may feel more able to trust one - wouldn't he?' Severus thought, then as instantly as he had gleamed the idea, it was dismissed. 'I cannot risk Phoebe, she would be helpless against Potter!' But Severus' mind would not allow him to drop the idea completely, it lingered in the recesses of his consciousness for the remainder of the morning.

After several hours of absolutely no movement whatsoever at twelve Grimmauld Place, Severus decided to take a short break, he was hungry again. Cauldron Lane's warmth and comfort beckoned unconsciously to him.

'I should check on Phoebe briefly,' he told himself, and he could not deny the sentiment, the woman could very well still be in danger, her health had only improved as a result of the potion Severus had given her, and he knew the effects would wear off, possibly resulting in a recurrence of her symptoms. That possibility gave

Severus the perfect excuse to give in to his clandestine desires.

Backing further into the darkness of the shadow, which was now rapidly reducing, Severus Disapparated with a small swish of his cloak. He Apparated again into the shadow of the bushes on the opposite side of the lane from the small cottage. Ensuring he was alone in the Lane, he swiftly made his way to the door and knocked firmly.

As she heard the loud knocking, Phoebe, who was resting on the couch, looked warily to the house-elf who had looked abruptly up from his task.

Phoebe struggled to her feet, she did not want to be taken by surprise in a position where she was not only highly defenceless, but unable to move at all swiftly. She had learned _not_ to assume that the knocker would always be someone she knew, and not necessarily friendly, regardless of their allegiances.

Erlin opened the door cautiously, but soon widened the entrance when he recognised the dark man standing on the doorstep.

"Master," he greeted.

"Erlin," Severus responded, walking past the elf and into the sitting room. The elf retreated into the kitchen, back to his cleaning task.

Phoebe sighed in relief at the sight of the man. "Severus," she said, barely more than a whisper.

Assessing her with his black eyes, he approached her, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," she answered.

"No, really I am," she continued as he, regardless of her statement, produced his wand from inside his black robes and ran it along the full length of her body. Neither did he heed her further assurances, completing the spell by muttering the incantation.

"I need to be sure," he then said, looking to her eyes.

"Well..?" she prompted him when at first he did not offer his findings.

"Normal, it would appear. For now, that is," he added when Phoebe was about to retort.

She huffed. But then accepted that he only wanted to be sure she was well and remained that way. Besides, she was becoming tired of pretending she didn't need his attentions, she so badly wanted to feel protected and cared for.

She suddenly reached out for him, a dry sob escaping her throat. She buried her face in his chest, clutching at his robes. Things had been so frantic and frightening lately and she had missed his closeness. His strength, she sensed, was back to normal and she almost gave in to threatening tears as she felt her need to be strong for _him_ dissolve.

He loosened her grip on his robes, and instead lay her hands flat against his chest and then she felt as his arms gradually enveloped her, not quite reluctant, but slightly hesitant nonetheless.

She knew she was being overly emotional, it didn't make sense to be this upset over nothing in particular, she could only blame it on the hormones. She was, after all, approaching her twenty-third week of pregnancy and said hormones were running rampant within her system, it really was no wonder she truly felt like bursting into tears just now. She laid her cheek against his body wanting to feel his reassuring solidity and warmth.

Severus did not say anything, he only stroked her temple with the thumb of his hand that had now moved to support her head against his chest. She remained in his grasp, her eyes squeezed shut, concentrating on the rhythmic caress of his touch and the gentle beating of his heart until she felt calmer and not so teary.

Eventually he spoke, the deep resonance of his voice all the more calming to her, "I have hopes that all this may end soon," he crooned.

Phoebe did not pull away from his embrace, she felt far too comfortable there, but answered with a question, "Did something happen?"

"Yes, I feel sure I have located another horcrux."

Phoebe finally pushed away a little and gazed up at him questioningly.

"A key hangs around Pettigrew's neck, it fits the characteristics of a likely horcrux. He informed me it once belonged to Ravenclaw which fits perfectly with the prerequisite of the Dark Lord's previous artefacts."

"This man _told_ you?"

Severus immediately understood the meaning of her question, "Yes, though I believe he is unaware of what it is that hangs around his neck, the information was nothing but trivia to him."

A moment of silence, "You _are_ being careful, aren't you?" she asked, worriedly.

"Of course," he answered assuredly.

After another short pause, "How many of these things are there, again?" she asked.

"Six. Two have already been destroyed, hence four remain."

"So now you have discovered the location of Hufflepuff's cup and now this key, that leaves only two more to find, right?"

"No, they have already been found, Potter is already aware of the locations of these." Severus paused, a small frown on his face, "Though there is one that I am not sure about, I will have to confirm it with the boy."

"So now what?" Phoebe asked expectantly.

Severus took her hands off his chest and walked away to the window of the sitting room, pulling back the curtain slightly. "It is time to let Potter know of my discoveries."

Phoebe felt apprehensive, "You have to tell him?" she asked.

Severus spun to her, a confused frown on his face, "Yes, he must be told."

Understanding his confusion, Phoebe clarified her question, "I mean, _you_ have to tell him, you personally?"

Severus more confused and even a little bit suspicious, narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you mean? Why should that matter?"

"Please don't go chasing after Harry, Severus, no good will come of it. Tell someone else," Phoebe pleaded, she did not want Severus to put himself deliberately in the path of the angry, and upset teenager. There surely must be another member he could trust.

"What are you saying?" demanded Severus.

"He hates you, he will never forgive you," she tried to explain, remembering Tonk's view of the teen's attitude toward Severus.

"Forgive me? Forgive me for what?"

Suddenly remembering the man would not have been aware, "Severus, he was there. He saw you, he saw what you did."

"Saw what? When?" he snapped, starting to lose his patience.

"When you killed… Dumbledore," Phoebe said reluctantly, "He saw."

Severus froze, he looked to be running through in his mind what he remembered from that night. He began to shake his head, "No - he was not there, he could not have seen. Where did you hear that?" he questioned sharply.

"Tonks told me, she said Harry _was_ there, under a cloak - she said he was invisible." Phoebe swallowed, "She also told me you would not have realised he was there."

Severus now looked visibly shaken.

"That's how she knew it was you, that's how everyone knows it was you… he saw, he told everyone _you_ murdered the Headmaster."

But Severus was no longer listening , he had paled considerably. "He was there?" he whispered, then his anger boiled over, "He was THERE!" he shouted.

Suddenly Severus was ranting and raving, striding about the room, knocking things over as they came within his reach.

"He was there, and he did nothing! He was hiding, under his invisibility cloak… and he dares call _me_ a coward! Why the hell didn't he do something!?" Severus growled. "He could have prevented all this! He should have stopped me… he just let me… and then he blames me… the STUPID, idiotic…" but Severus did not finish the sentence, something obviously did not add up about the situation, "But why? Why!?" he snarled.

Phoebe was now cowering away from the man and his rage. She had backed away from him and was cringing against the wall next to the hallway, flinching at every sound of breaking glass and splintering wood. She was afraid to step in to calm him, he seemed out of control, absolutely furious with the teenager. _Harry Potter_, it seemed to Phoebe, was the only person who was able to push Severus past his point of self-control, and he did it so easily. What was more absurd was that he was even able to do it unknowingly - he wasn't even here, and could have no clue where or what Severus was doing at that moment.

After a few more minutes of continuing to pace, occasionally mumbling more damning words and smashing items around the room, Severus had calmed himself enough to look at Phoebe. He had the decency to look a little ashamed of himself and took a seat on the couch, "I am finished," he announced quietly, through gritted teeth.

"Are you sure," she asked, her breath shuddering slightly.

He closed his eyes and hung his head, abashed, "Yes," he breathed. He ran his hands over his face and then raked his fingers in frustration through his hair. He finally rested his head in his hands, leaning his elbows onto his knees. "You are right, I cannot face Potter - I will likely tear him limb from limb!"

Avoiding the broken glass and other objects that Severus had thrown liberally around the room, Phoebe approached the man on the couch. "He has a certain way with you, doesn't he?" she said with a tinge of amusement, crouching in front of him and rubbing her hand over his leg supportively.

Severus caught the slight humour and huffed the tiniest of laughs himself. "Apparently he does," he answered somewhat bitterly, then sighing.

"What are we going to do then?"

"_We_?" he said questioningly.

"Yes, we," answered Phoebe firmly.

Severus cleared a space of debris from the couch beside him and invited her to sit next to him. She took his offered hand and shifted her position. "I do not know," he answered automatically.

"Take _me_ to Harry, Severus - I will tell him," she offered.

Instead of the expected _No_, Phoebe heard the man sigh again, this time it was laced with defeat, "Alright," he quietly agreed.

****

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	30. Chapter 30  Conscience

The long awaited confrontation with Potter...

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**Chapter 30**_ - Conscience_

Severus did not know what idiotic thought had possessed him to finally allow the notion of having Phoebe confront Potter, yet he found himself unable to retract his agreement.

'I will be there,' he assured himself, he would never leave her unprotected. Severus would remain unseen, though never too far away that he could not help her if she needed him.

He withdrew the empty vials that he had collected from the cellar laboratory in his house, from his coat pocket, and placing the tip of his wand to his own temple, he pulled a long strand of silvery vapour, not quite liquid and not quite gas, from his mind. The _memory_ was placed into an individual vial, sealed immediately and laid on the dining table in front of him. He repeated the process four times, each time filling a new vial.

The first memory was that of Dumbledore explaining the horcruxes, and how each of them may be recognised, to the dark man. Severus chose this memory to inform Harry of how much information Severus had been trusted with, to make the boy understand that Severus knew what was required to destroy the Dark Lord and to show that he had been asked to gather information from the dark side. Severus hoped it would prove to Potter that he genuinely wished to provide helpful information.

As he looked at the vial, the memory swirling within it, he wondered whether the contents would be enough to serve its purpose or not.

The second and third memories contained images of the moments he discovered the cup and the key, he hoped Potter would recognise the items easily for what they were.

The fourth was a memory of a conversation many months ago, between Severus and the Headmaster - when Severus had informed the Headmaster of his newly taken Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa Malfoy and Dumbledore had first suggested that the only way out of this unfortunate web would be to sacrifice himself so that Severus may continue on as spy. Severus made sure to include his own outrage at being asked to participate in the plan, within the vision.

He still was not sure whether he would need to hand over this particular memory yet.

The fifth - a conversation, again with the Headmaster, though this time from many years previous, when he was a very young man. This conversation had become the moment that truly was the turning point in Severus' life, and it proved his undoubtable and unwavering loyalty to the old wizard.

Contemplating this memory, twirling the vial between his long fingers, his heart beating almost painfully within his chest, Severus came to a decision. He uncorked the vial and retrieved the strand of memory with his wand and replaced it back within his own mind. This memory was not for Potter, not now and possibly… _not ever_.

Phoebe rejoined him from the kitchen, burdened with two plates of sandwiches and drinks and sat at the table with Severus. Remembering his hunger, he accepted the plate and goblet offered to him and consumed the meal gratefully. He noticed she only picked at hers and he frowned to himself. He still felt regretful for involving the woman in this mess. She ought to be enjoying her pregnancy, not worrying and stressing over the details of the war. Though scrutinising her now out of the corner of his eye, he surmised that apart from her recent physical condition, she seemed to be coping fairly well with the burden of her new knowledge. Her character was strong, and it certainly was a most favourable attribute.

'And I like her _fire_,' his thoughts continued. He remembered she had on a number of occasions stood up to him valiantly and had matched his wit more than once. It was these traits he suddenly now wished another important woman in his life had had more of. 'I wonder whether Mother would have approved of you… liked you even?' he thought of Phoebe.

Before he knew it, he was openly staring at the woman, a tiny smile adorned his lips as he admired her. He thought she was beautiful, radiant and when his eyes shifted to her rounded belly, his own stomach gave a small jolt as he realised it would only be a matter of a few months before he would finally meet the child - _his_ child.

"What are you thinking about," Phoebe asked, snapping him back to reality.

The dark man considered just answering, '_Nothing_,' but changed his mind, "My mother," he said instead.

She looked at him questioningly.

"I think she would have liked to have met her grandchild," he explained, then added in his own head, 'and her grandchild's mother...'

"You miss her, don't you?"

Severus blinked as he was caught off guard by the question. "Perhaps," he answered as honestly as he could. "I rarely think about her."

Feeling a little uncomfortable with the subject, Severus stood from the table, "I will need to find Potter - this cannot end until the boy has my information."

Besides that, Severus knew he still had the requirements of the Dark Lord's task to fulfil. Lupin would still need to be captured, meaning he had to track the werewolf's movements. Any delays would incur the Dark Lord's wrath, a punishment Severus would soon endure with growing impatience.

He looked to Phoebe, "We must hand over these as soon as possible," he said, indicating to the silver-smoky vials still on the table.

"What are these?" she asked.

"Pensieve memories, my memories - extracted from my mind. The proof Potter will need to believe the information you tell him. He will be able to witness what I saw." Phoebe looked quite impressed with the magical concept.

Leaving the memories on the table, he strode to the coat rack on which he had hung his cloak before he had set to work to repair the sitting room to its original state - the state previous to him demolishing the room with his temper, that is. He took the cloak off the rack and swung it over himself.

"Put those in a safe place, I will return when I have located him," he commanded, pointing to the vials again, then as he was about to exit the cottage he stopped, he had instantly been taken by a strong urge to kiss the woman, so he swiftly strode to her and pulled her up to stand in front of him. Taking a hold of her head beneath her hair, he tilted her face upwards and met her lips with his own. This time he did not tentatively test her response, but firmly, passionately kissed her, then wordlessly strode back to the door and departed.

As Severus stepped out onto the doorstep of the cottage, closing the door behind him, he wondered where he would be likely to find Potter. Glancing up toward Hogwarts' tallest towers, the only part of the castle visible from here, it suddenly occurred to him that the boy should again be at the school, there for his final year. He had heard through the grapevine that the school had indeed opened its doors to any students who still wished to attend.

'Unless, of course, Potter had decided to forego his studies to concentrate on the task of ridding the world of the Dark Lord,' he thought sarcastically. 'It would be just like Potter to think this was an option,' Severus silently scoffed. 'Still, he may have given up and returned to his education - besides Minerva would insist, wouldn't she?'

Severus felt rather uncomfortable about returning to the school, even if only to locate the Potter boy. The dark man had definitely not allowed himself the _right_ or _need_ to properly grieve the Headmaster's death, so to return to the place where he had been forced to personally commit the reprehensible deed of taking the old wizard's life - well, he suspected it may sting far more than he first realised it ever would or could.

The air was bitterly crisp here, he noticed. Winter would be upon them within two months and the first falling of snow, it seemed, was imminent. Though the dusting would not last, many blankets of snow would fall and melt before winter took hold and left a permanent covering. It would soon be Halloween, and with that acknowledgment came Severus' recollection that the students would be allowed their first Hogsmeade visit beforehand.

The wizarding community, although somewhat stifled by the recent activity of the Death Eaters, was still active. Shops were still open to the public and business was still being conducted, albeit with rather heavier security. So too, he assumed, would the school continue to run as normally as possible. Yes, he would take the chance, the students should be out in just over four weeks, he would attempt to intercept Potter during this visit.

'It is better than inflicting further anguish upon myself, anyway,' he barely allowed himself to think.

Severus returned to his task of watching the _Black_ mansion at Grimmauld Place, London, where the weather was still cool, but not the biting cold of the north.

The month went by as Severus suspected it would, _torturingly_ slow! He had managed to accumulate a certain amount of intelligence about the use of number twelve, but he delayed sharing this information with his fellow Death Eaters to buy himself, or more specifically - Lupin - some time. However his resolve was tested every time he endured the excruciating agony inflicted by the Dark Lord's wand.

'Is Lupin worth this suffering? Perhaps I should just get it over with!,' he thought sadistically, after having just been left by the Dark Lord, humiliatingly curled in a ball on the floor, sweating, shaking and gasping for breath. In fact he wasn't even sure why he was buying the werewolf time, it wasn't like he could keep Lupin's fate from him in the end. But Severus quickly acknowledged that giving up the Order member early would only expedite the next mission, which could likely be much _less_ desirable. So, dragging himself unsteadily to his feet, he resolved himself once again, he would continue to endure…

On the day he expected the Hogsmeade trip to occur, Severus arrived at Cauldron Lane to prepare and accompany Phoebe. He was watching from the window for any sign of Hogwarts students making their way into the village.

"Potter is still dangerous to you," he insisted to Phoebe.

"I will be fine, Severus, he's a teenager-"

"He is a Wizard, Phoebe… and you are a Muggle."

She regarded him with an earnest expression, "If you tell me to do something, I _will_ do it, okay."

He nodded, satisfied that she was giving him control of the confrontation even though he intended to remain out of sight.

"Are you ready? There are a number of students walking this way," he announced, closing the curtain. He could not have felt more nervous, he was used to putting himself on the line, but rarely was he responsible for another's safety, and considering who that other person was, he thought it would not take much and he would pull the pin on the entire plan.

Phoebe nodded, stowing the four vials, which had been sitting in front of her on the table, into her coat's inner pocket and standing up. She had dressed very warmly, but despite the many layers, she was still obviously pregnant. She buttoned the coat and went to stand behind Severus at the door.

They exited the cottage before the students drew near enough to see that they had virtually popped into existence from nothing. Quickly Severus took Phoebe by her hand and avoiding the more prolific appearance of Aurors and Hogwarts staff keeping a wary eye on the students, he walked her to a more sparse area of Hogsmeade. They hid behind a deserted building off one of the side streets where they could easily observe the teenagers making their way into the centre of the village without being discovered themselves.

It was not long before Severus saw the _image_ of James Potter sauntering down the street. He felt his anger rising as he observed the dark haired boy, but took a deep breath so as not to let the feeling get the better of him. Not surprisingly, he saw that Potter was flanked by none other than the flaming red headed, Ronald Weasley and the irritating know-it-all, Hermione Granger.

Severus sighed, "It seems it will be a group meeting," he said, disappointed. If one wizard against Phoebe was risky, three would definitely be a worry. "The boy with black hair," he said quietly, barely containing his contempt, pointing Harry out for Phoebe.

Phoebe acknowledged him with a whispered, "Okay."

He turned squarely to the woman and nodded to her, "Go now, and remember… I will stay close."

The woman nodded her acknowledgment this time, then she walked past him and soon he saw her emerge onto the street leading into the village, ahead of the two young Wizards and the young Witch.

Severus observed on edge, as she engaged with the so-called _Chosen One_.

Phoebe approached the boy and his friends closely, catching the dark haired one's eye, "Harry?"

The trio stopped walking abruptly, and eyed her in return with much suspicion and surprise.

"Yes," answered Harry.

Phoebe was nervous and floundered with her words. "Please, come with me. I… I know something, I think you should hear it."

The three students looked to each other, unsure of whether to follow the woman.

"Please, it... it is very important."

"Where to?" asked Hermione, the only one who had seemed to have found her voice.

"Not far. You don't need to fear me, I am a Muggle. Please," she asked again, turning and beginning to walk back down the empty side street, looking around to see whether they were following.

When she came to a large old tree, she stopped, "Just here, it's okay, please." The tree was only meters from the building, behind which, Severus was concealed.

"I mustn't be seen, please," she encouraged. They still had not moved from the main street, but Phoebe held her ground and eventually the three teenagers moved in her direction. She walked behind the tree and they followed so they were all hidden from view of others walking along the main street, by its large trunk.

"Well?" questioned Harry rather rudely, though Phoebe couldn't really blame him, she was still feeling quite nervous herself.

"I have information."

"About what?" snapped the red headed boy.

"About the horcruxes," Phoebe whispered.

All three teenagers flinched in astonishment at the announcement.

"What," breathed Harry, highly suspicious now. "How do you-? Who are you?" he demanded quietly.

"It doesn't matter who I am, just that I can help," she insisted. "I know where the missing two are - I have proof."

"No one should know this… who are you!?" Harry demanded again, shaking his head and stepping threateningly closer to Phoebe.

Panicking a bit, Phoebe went to reach inside her coat, "Just look at these-" but before she could even get more than one of her coat buttons open, all three teenage wizards had brandished their wands. Phoebe froze, then she made a huge mistake, she made an almost insignificant motion to look in Severus' direction for guidance.

Unfortunately, Harry did not miss the tiny movement and before she knew it, he had seized her around the throat in a strangle hold, with her back against his body, his wand digging sharply into her neck. She gasped in fear and pain.

"Who are you?" he demanded for the third time, "And who is with you!" he snarled with an intensity Phoebe was shocked at.

As the boy was a bit shorter than Phoebe, his strong hold forced her to painfully bend backwards, she had to support her back with her hand while the other was pulling the teenagers arm away from her throat so she could maintain an airway. She tried to bend her knees to ease the stress, but as he was now stepping backwards, dragging her with him, it was an almost impossible task. 'Shit! Bloody hell, where is Severus!?' she thought desperately.

"Let her go, Potter!" Severus projected his threatening voice as he stepped from behind the building, also brandishing his wand ahead of him, the turn of events forcing him to reveal himself.

"Professor Snape," Hermione squeaked in shock.

"You!" Potter spat accusingly. And Weasley merely gaped in surprise.

"Let her go," Severus repeated.

"No,' Harry snarled defiantly. "Who is she anyway? Who _are_ you?" he asked again, directing the second question directly to the woman he was holding in hostage fashion.

"Nobody," Phoebe managed to choke out.

Severus took a threatening step toward the boy as he saw that Phoebe was struggling to breathe.

"Ex-pelliarmus!" Weasley sent a disarming spell toward his ex-Professor, but Severus easily deflected it, and Ron was forced to dodge his own spell.

"You have some nerve showing up here!" spat Potter stepping backwards again and dragging Phoebe with him, "You traitor - you _coward_!"

"Let's talk about cowards, shall we Potter? You, I recently found out, were cringing under you father's cloak that night, were you not? Why didn't _you_ help?! Who indeed is the _Coward_!?" he accused in return, his voice now cracking with rage, "I need not have done it, I could have avoided doing it!" he announced and Severus' distress at the revelation was now plainly showing on his face.

Potter regarded him curiously, though still very much wary, maintaining his grip around Phoebe's neck. The other two remained just as bewildered on either side.

"Why?!" Severus frankly demanded again.

And Potter answered him, embittered, "I was immobilised, Dumbledore immobilised me, I couldn't _do_ anything!"

Severus' mind was now reeling, the Headmaster had _immobilised_ Potter? _Of-course he had!_ He had protected Potter just like he wanted Malfoy protected, and Severus had been left to follow through with the orders!

Severus let his wand drop the slightest amount. He felt suddenly very abandoned and betrayed. Dumbledore had _used _him so recklessly, the old wizard who had claimed to be Severus' friend, had taken for granted that Severus' own soul was already imperfect and it mattered not that he be forced again to damage it further.

'Did his conscience also not _matter_ to the old man, at all?'

The glaring answer hurt Severus so devastatingly that it pushed him swiftly into despair: he could not see the point in going on, he would never be able to reclaim his life from here. Severus himself could barely accept all that he had been forced to do, and at that moment he did not _want_ to go on. He let his wand slip further.

Looking up at the nervous teenagers, Severus virtually begged mentally that one of them act to capture him or better yet _kill_ him, he _was_ ready to die, ready for his torment to end. But their faces wore expressions of stunned confusion, no doubt as response to his own unexpected reaction. But then his eyes fell upon Phoebe, who was still struggling against Potter's grip. He saw she was pleading for his help, her eyes flashing, and when he allowed his mind to clumsily delve into hers, all need for subtlety and stealth abandoned, her desperate need for him, confirmed by her fear for herself and her unborn child, became startlingly apparent.

That was when it hit him. The meaning of the confusing and seemingly far-fetched words Dumbledore had once lectured to him during one of their meetings now became blindingly obvious'_Phoebe and this baby would one day save his life!_' As he focused on her now, he saw her suddenly become his lifeline, the woman and her child - their child - were his fate, his hope and his future - _that day_ had now come. Severus mentally grasped the lifeline she offered, and with it came his will to live, to succeed and he re-strengthened the grip on his outstretched wand.

"For Merlin's sake, Potter, the woman is with child!" he growled angrily, "Let her go - let Phoebe GO!" authoritatively shouting the last word, taking another threatening step toward the trio and glaring at the teenage near replica of James Potter.

Stepping back reflexively, Harry glanced at his captive and then back up at the dark man, clearly confused and unsure about what it was he was witnessing. Then suddenly he released Phoebe. She stumbled and was caught by the Granger girl. Phoebe regained her balance and went to move toward Severus.

"Wait… hand over the memories to Potter," Severus ordered her, his voice quietly calm once more, though never taking his eyes, nor his wand, off the teenagers.

Phoebe hesitated, then undid another button on her coat and retrieved the four vials from inside the pocket. "All of them?" she asked, looking back at him.

He nodded once. 'Yes, Potter will need all the memories.'

She did as he requested, holding them out for Potter to take, but the boy did not move. Instead, Miss Granger approached her and accepted them with a small nod of acknowledgment.

Then Phoebe almost ran the distance to Severus, and he took her into the protection of his left arm, enveloping her within his cloak. He leaned his face down closer to hers and rested his cheek upon her forehead, "I have got you," he whispered, so only she could hear.

"So, what are these about?" Potter was snarling.

"I am sure you will work it out, Potter," Severus replied in a disdainful drawl. "Though I do have a question: Did the Headmaster find the third horcrux? I need to be sure they are all located."

"Why in the hell would I tell you?" the boy growled.

Ron took his opportunity to throw a hex at Severus, muttering the spell quietly, though not quiet enough. The dark man conjured his shield charm which protected both himself and the woman he sheltered. Again the red-headed boy found the need to dodge the repelled curse.

"You will soon realise that I am your only source of _real_ help, Potter, no-one else has the skill, knowledge or... access," Severus snarled coolly, sending a piercing glare at Weasley. "Reign in your lap-dogs!" he demanded contemptuously.

"Unless you know who owns the initials R.A.B, then you will _never_ be of any help to me!" Potter growled bitterly, almost out of spite. He clearly did not expect Severus to provide an answer, let alone for it to be helpful.

"R.A.B?" Severus repeated quietly, and then after a short pause, "Yes, I know who that likely is…" Potter made a surprised movement, and Severus saw a hopeful expression cross his angry features.

As Severus was marginally distracted, the Weasley boy sent another curse the dark man's way, and unexpectedly the attack was performed non-verbally, catching Severus off guard. Weasley had not been able to master this skill the last time Severus had witnessed, though admittedly that was months ago, and the assumption that the boy had not progressed in the dark man's absence was an immense mistake. His reaction was too slow, the spell hit both he and Phoebe before he was able to invoke his shield charm. Severus was hit hard by the full force of the curse, taking the brunt of the powerful assault in the chest, knocking him off balance.

He heard Potter and Granger yelling "NO, Ron!" though the warning was clearly too late.

However milliseconds later, Severus had focused his concentration before he crashed into the snow-covered ground, Disapparating away holding Phoebe tight within his grasp, leaving the images of two confused and panicked teenagers behind.

Potter however, had lunged at Severus and managed to grasp the dark man's foot at the last second, consequently he was, inadvertently, dragged along for the ride!

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	31. Chapter 31  From Bad to Worse

The aftermath of the confrontation with Potter... featuring the legacy of Mad-Eye Moody...

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**Chapter 31**_ - From Bad to Worse_

It was fair to say that _chaos_ was the best word to describe what happened when the two enemy Wizards and one pregnant Muggle woman Apparated to the quiet cobble stoned footpath. Everything from that moment happened extremely quickly.

Severus was so badly winded by the hex the Weasley boy had thrown at him that he was barely able to soften Phoebe's landing as they both crashed to the ground. As it was, he knew she had hit the ground hard and would be extremely lucky to have escaped some kind of significant injury, let alone any possible stress or injury to her baby.

She was crying now, sobbing hysterically, softly panting the dark man's name, pleading for his help. Severus struggled against his own injury to sit up, endeavouring to comfort Phoebe, to help her. He saw she was clutching at her left shoulder with one hand and supporting her pregnant belly with the other and he became quite concerned, she was clearly in pain. He reached out his hand to the woman in a attempt to calm her. Frustratingly, he discovered it was all he could manage at this moment.

Then he noticed Potter, scrambling to his feet in front of him. With his back partly turned to Severus and Phoebe, the boy was snarling profanities loudly in anger and pain, and when Severus looked closer, he saw why. Potter had a nasty scrape to the side of his face that was beginning to ooze blood down his cheek.

Severus himself was still battling to regain his breath, and every movement in his chest seemed to send sharp, shooting pain through his ribs. However, he knew that the injuries sustained by all three of them was not the worst of this unthinkable situation.

In his frantic urgency to Disapparate Phoebe away from Weasley's swift attack, the first image that he could muster in his mind had been the dark, dismal street known as Spinner's End - his street, where his house, which was currently being occupied by Wormtail stood, now more menacing than it ever had been, only a few doors away.

"Quiet, Potter," he forced himself to utter, his voice barely escaping his throat in his breathlessness, but he knew he needed to take control of the predicament quickly, before things became substantially worse.

He recognised the teenager's panic at the sound of his voice, the boy spinning to face the dark man, wildly sweeping his wand toward him whilst muttering a frantic succession of curses and hexes. But Severus instantly subdued the threat; silently disarming the boy and securing him with ropes that emitted from his own wand. He pointedly refused to be bettered again by a teenager today. Potter continued to make an unacceptable amount of noise, so he gagged him with a silencing spell, then summoned the fallen wand. He then turned his attention back to Phoebe, stowing both his and Potter's wands within his robes.

"Phoebe… you must be quiet," he huffed, reaching out again in another attempt to calm the woman still lying beside him on the hard footpath, this time his voice a little stronger between fighting gulps of air.

"I couldn't breathe… I can't…" she continued to gasp, sobbing between shallow breaths.

Severus deduced she was describing the shocking squeezing sensation of Apparition, and the dark man couldn't really be surprised at her panic. One's first time experiencing this method of travel was ordinarily done under much more calm and controlled circumstances, usually with some kind of warning of what to expect, and quite frankly, to _expect something_ in the first place. Phoebe had had no warning at all. She had just sustained a frightening attack in itself, first having endured being taken hostage by the infernal Potter kid. Not to mention that she was a Muggle who would not normally have experienced anything of the sort, and to top it off, she was also quite heavily pregnant. Her hysteria should really have been entirely anticipated.

"It is over now, and I need you to be quiet, it is important," he insisted urgently, still a little breathless, pushing to a crouching position beside Phoebe and helping her to sit upright. "Shh, Phoebe, _now_!" he snapped, demanding her compliance immediately.

His harsh tone secured Phoebe's attention and fairly quickly the woman stifled her cries to sobs and then further to deep breaths, though Severus could feel that she was still shaking quite violently.

"Are you injured?" he asked quietly, deeply concerned. He now was able to take control of his own breathing and appreciatively took a deep breath, it was still intensely painful, though at least he was managing to get air into his lungs.

"I-I don't know… maybe… it hurts," she groaned.

"Where?" Severus asked.

"Um… just my knee… my hand, and my shoulder," Phoebe answered after a moment.

Severus paused to examine her knee. Her jeans were torn, and there was an amount of blood seeping through the fabric, but as he pulled the edge to the side gently, he noted though it was a severe gash, it was one he could heal with a simple spell. Her hand appeared to be only a minor graze, but the injury that most concerned him was that of her shoulder. For her to have sustained an injury there, meant that she must have been hit by the same spell as he had been, and as he was in a startling amount of pain, it caused him to worry what harm had been done to the woman in her delicate condition. However he could not fathom a way to effectively assess the damage with her still wearing her heavy coat and it was far too cold to remove it. As there was no sign of blood, he determined it could wait until he got her some place safe.

"And the baby?" he asked, needing to be sure he would not have to seek medi-wizard help for her. Severus had never claimed to be a healer, and any serious problems during pregnancy were sure to be well beyond him. He was the first to admit it was merely a coincidental combination of his natural skill and interest in potions and his driving need since he was a child to arm himself with information, a general knowledge, that had put him in a position where he could help her when she had suffered symptoms from high blood pressure. He would not necessarily be as lucky next time.

"No… I think we're both alright. Just give me a minute," she said, though he noticed her rubbing her hand soothingly under her swollen abdomen. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Severus was not necessarily convinced that she _was_ alright, but their continuing presence in Spinner's End presented more danger to them all, at this moment.

"I cannot, we must go _now_," he insisted, regretfully.

"Where are we?" she asked shakily.

"Later… I will explain later," he said, hushing her.

He helped her to stand, allowing her to lean on him as she walked, limping quite dramatically at first, then taking more weight as she adjusted to the pain. Producing his wand, he loosened Potter's leg ropes and levitated him to his feet, pushing the boy somewhat roughly ahead of him. The teenager was still attempting to scream out defiantly, though it was purely out of frustrated rage, Potter would be fully aware he could make no sound.

He directed them all up the cobble stoned path, away from his house, they were too close to Disapparate away, the sound would likely alert Wormtail. Severus cringed at his next thought, 'That is if he is not already painfully aware of our presence.'

However Severus could not dwell on this, everything that could be done to rectify the predicament had been done. He would just need to trust that Pettigrew had not seen or heard anything. Besides, there was a slim chance that the rat-like man had not been at home. Severus cringed again, he had never liked the idea of the rodent calling his house _home_.

Stopping half way up the street, Severus put a hand out to the nearby brick wall, not able to stifle the grunt when a particularly nasty spasm shot through his ribs. He was beginning to sweat despite the cold and suspected his own injury may be worse than he first realised.

"Severus?" Phoebe queried, concerned.

"I will be fine," he answered, "keep moving." He felt the woman take on more of her own weight when they resumed walking and privately he was appreciative. He was definitely beginning to struggle with his own pain now.

When they were far enough up the street, Severus reached out and grabbed Potter by the scruff of his neck. "Hold tight," he directed Phoebe. "I am going to Disapparate us all. The same as before, you will feel the compressing and will feel as though you will not breathe again, but it will pass," he assured. She grasped his arm particularly fiercely, and he noted her reluctance, but not her resistance. It was rarely anyone's favourite mode of transport, regardless of its practicality; the sensation was markedly unpleasant.

He concentrated, and within moments a different, brighter street came into view. Phoebe's street in London. Her house had remained vacant, it had been part of Dumbledore's arrangements, the old wizard had paid the rent in advance on her behalf, explaining to Severus that Phoebe may wish to return to the city at some point, and it was best not to lose the house, it was well positioned after all.

Pushing Potter toward the house, Severus then reached for his wand once more. "Alohomora" he muttered quietly, the door swinging open to admit the three. He allowed, or rather insisted, that Phoebe enter ahead of him, then shoved a resistant Potter through the doorway.

He grunted out loud again as the pain shot through him, feeling quite positive now that something far more sinister than severe bruising was wrong with him. He was suddenly overwhelmed by a coughing fit, which hurt tremendously, leaving him swaying very inconveniently on the threshold of the dwelling. As he felt Phoebe grasp him by his arm, he looked up at her. She wore an expression of serious concern.

Phoebe reached out a hand and lightly brushed his lips with her fingers, "You have blood, Severus," showing him her red stained fingertips.

With her pulling his arm, he managed to take the few steps inside to clear himself of the door allowing Phoebe to push it gently to close. "I must have a broken rib," he suggested, wiping his mouth upon the back of his hand and examining the amount of blood he had amassed. "There is not that much, it is not severe." He looked reassuringly at Phoebe, "I am fine." But he knew, of course, that he wasn't.

"I will heal your knee. Come, sit," he insisted, taking her by the hand. Anything to distract himself from the worsening pain that came with every breath.

Phoebe had managed to convince Severus to let her take a look at his chest once he had healed her knee and other grazes. His ribs, below his right nipple, were a dark purple, bruised beyond anything she had ever seen before. It looked extremely painful and this was confirmed by his reluctance to take in deeper breaths. Despite his attempts to keep his pain private, the lines of strain were becoming more evident and the beading sweat was beginning to travel in small rivulets down the side of his face.

Looking again at the purple bruising, she resigned to the fact that she really had no knowledge of how to help him anyway, she wasn't a doctor or even a nurse.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted to him, shrugging her shoulders and wincing at the pain the action caused.

"Take your coat off, let me see your shoulder," he responded, ignoring completely her attempt to help him.

She stood from him and removed the coat as he'd asked, flinching slightly as she moved her shoulder to shake off the sleeve.

He stood, with what appeared to be a great effort, and moved to her side. "Undo the fastenings," he suggested, meaning the buttons of both her cardigan and blouse. It was at that moment that the man must have remembered the presence of the teenager in the room. He glared poisonously at the boy who was sitting, restrained once more, in the corner of the room staring at the floor. The teenager appeared to have given up on his rage, and only occasionally was glancing up at Phoebe and Severus.

"Move Potter," Severus ordered savagely, withdrawing his wand and again removing the leg bonds to enable the boy to walk. The boy scrambled to his feet as the bonds were released, and Severus flicked both his head and his wand down the hall, indicating that the teenager should move in that direction. "Into the bedroom," Severus demanded.

"It's okay, Severus. Leave him, he's fine there," Phoebe insisted.

"I don't think so," Severus snarled nastily, though the response was directed at Harry.

"Severus, please. I'll take him," Phoebe stepped in, placing herself between Harry and Severus. She could see that he was exceptionally disagreeable and suspected it was because he was suffering a tremendous amount of pain. His temper would be very short with the boy, she did not want him to do anything he would regret. Harry was, after all, the only person she had known who was able to drive Severus beyond his point of self-control without even trying.

She led the boy down the hall and admitted him to the bedroom. "Here, sit," she said calmly, indicating to the bed. She wanted to tell him everything would be alright, but wasn't sure herself whether it was true, so she said nothing further. 'What on earth would Severus do with the boy now?' she wondered.

Harry was trying to speak to her, his mouth forming words, but no sound coming forth. As he evidently remembered the silencing spell, he stopped trying, sighing instead in frustration and defeat.

Severus was now standing at the bedroom doorway. "Let him talk, Severus," Phoebe requested.

"Let me see your shoulder," he answered, disregarding Phoebe's request completely. "Come," he snapped abruptly when she didn't move immediately, then disappearing into the hallway in the direction of the sitting room.

She followed him into the hall, glancing back at the forlorn teenager, giving him a regretful look. "I'll be back soon," she whispered.

Once she had returned to the sitting room and had removed the clothing, the man examined her bare shoulder. "Bruised, that is all," he stated, with a hint of relief.

Phoebe noticed Severus had now taken to supporting his injured ribs with his hand, grimacing with almost every breath. He was sweating profusely with exertion now, and his breathing was becoming too shallow for her liking, reminding her of the time she nearly lost him after the hippogriff attack. Though thankfully, there had been no sign of any more blood at his lips.

"Severus, you should do something for yourself," Phoebe pleaded. "I am not stupid, I can see you are in terrible pain." She reclothed herself, doing up the buttons as she observed him.

"I am alright, woman," Severus snapped at her again, walking away from her to sit down again. "I do not need you fawning over me!"

"Oh, shut up, you stupid fool man!" she snapped back. Severus swung to her, startled by her tone and obvious brazenness. "You are _not_ alright, and quite frankly, I'm astounded that you keep trying to tell me that you are. In fact, your injury is not all that _is_ wrong. You should know, I felt you in my head, in my mind… earlier. I felt your despair, Severus, and it frightened me!"

"Keep your voice down," he said, his voice low and deadly, "I do not wish for Potter to bear witness to my weaknesses… it is bad enough that you know," he muttered the addition.

"Oh, just listen to you! You insist on treating the boy as an enemy, even though you maintain so vehemently that you are on the same side. And worse, you refuse to trust me with your feelings," she added, emotion welling inside her, forcing her to fight back tears. Phoebe turned away from the dark man, rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her palm in frustration. "Forget about it, I give up." If the man wasn't going to do something about his injury, then she would just be forced to find help for him when he finally fell unconscious. 'Fine by me,' she thought determinedly.

"Well, what are you going to do with Harry?" she asked. "Surely you don't intend to keep him prisoner indefinitely." She had not turned back to face him, it was heart wrenching to see the pain etched in his features and not being permitted to help.

"Phoebe," he spoke softly. This new tone scared her, she turned immediately to him.

"You are correct, I am not alright. In fact I seem to be getting significantly worse," he whispered, wiping sweat from his brow with his sleeve. "I will try to heal myself now, if you will assist me."

'Finally,' she thought, relieved. "Okay." She walked over to him. "What do you want me to do?" she asked, perplexed about what she could possibly do to help.

"Healing bones is complicated, you first must know which are broken."

Phoebe didn't like the sound of this. She took a hold of his hand and discovered he was shaking a little, 'Probably from the pain,' she surmised.

"I need you to help me feel-"

"Severus, Harry is here, he might be able to help better than me," she suggested, not at all comfortable with what he seemed to be asking her to do.

Severus scoffed, "Potter would rather see me die a slow, painful death, Phoebe."

Phoebe nodded reluctantly, conceding that at this moment there was probably little doubt that the teenager was indeed thinking just that! "Alright… where?"

He grasped her hand and placed it on his bare skin, "You will need to push quite firmly… to try and detect any abnormal movement of my ribs."

"What… while you're standing up!?" she asked in disbelief and shock.

He looked a little taken aback, "Perhaps I ought to lie down," he said after thinking about it for a moment.

Phoebe gazed at him unabashed, "Yes, I should think so," she said self righteously.

He took a reclined position on the couch, facing away from the hallway and Phoebe tentatively began to explore his ribs with her fingers.

"Harder, you will never feel anything like that!" he grumbled.

She huffed, he was already stiffening under the tentative pressure, this was going to hurt him terribly, but she knew she had to just do it, get it over with.

Pushing down and running her fingers along each bone very firmly, she concentrated on feeling or hearing for any odd sensation or sound. On the second rib, she felt such an oddity, a distinct rising of the bone and then a sharp dip. A most definite break. Severus could not stifle his intense yelp of pain as her fingers passed over the most painful point. She paused slightly, allowing the man to gain back his breath, then moved on to the next rib down. This particular bone was at the centre of the deep bruising, and as expected, she found a similar break about half way along it, the ends on either side of the break dipping ominously under the firm compression of her fingers. Another profound grunt issued from Severus' mouth and he snatched her hand away reflexively, gasping again for his breath.

As soon as he realised what he had done he dropped her hand, and instead began indicating that he wished for her to continue. But she noticed his face had become very pale, and he was instantly overcome by another coughing fit, resulting in more blood appearing at the corners of his mouth. He wiped the blood away himself, aware of its presence this time.

"The next one," he said, hoarsely hissing the instruction.

"Just take a short break-"

"No, _now_," he insisted.

"Severus-"

"_Now_… for Merlin's sake do not argue with me, Phoebe!" he growled, almost desperately.

"Alright," she conceded. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed movement from the hall way and looked up to see Harry standing, watching silently. His arms were still bound, though Severus had failed to resecure his leg ropes. Severus had chosen that moment to close his eyes, and he remained unaware of the boy observing them. Phoebe held her tongue, ensuring it would stay that way for now.

Placing her fingers on the next rib, she pushed down and slid them along once more. Severus made a small gasp, but Phoebe only felt a tiny ridge that seemed out of place. She found nothing on the next two ribs. Satisfied, she stopped.

"That's it, two breaks and this one is maybe just cracked," she said pointing out the respective bones.

Severus nodded, not seeming able to answer. She took a hold of his left hand and discovered he was trembling worse than before. "Are you alright?"

Instead of answering, he produced his wand in his right hand. She leaned back and watched in awe as the magic left his wand and seemed to penetrate his body. His grip on her hand tightened momentarily, but then loosened once more.

"It is healed," he finally said with not a small amount of relief.

There was suddenly a very loud crash which caused both Phoebe and Severus to jump in shock. Harry had suddenly knocked a glass bowl off the cabinet that stood next to the hallway.

Severus sat bolt upright instantly, aiming his wand menacingly at the boy. He leapt to his feet facing the teenager, placing himself between Harry and Phoebe protectively.

"What are you doing out here, Potter?" he growled in demand. He then abruptly groaned loudly and almost collapsed, grasping at his ribs.

Phoebe clutched at the dark man, guiding him quickly to the couch. She glanced quickly up to Harry and noticed him gesturing wildly to his own mouth. It was clear he was trying to convince them to remove the magical gag and let him speak.

"Harry is trying to say something, Severus, please release him from the silencing spell," Phoebe whispered to the man who was reduced to fighting for his breath once again. She was worried immensely for his health. 'Why hadn't Severus' healing spell worked?!'

Severus did not respond in any way to her request, so she tried again. "He might know something important, please Severus, I can't help you," she begged desperately.

After a slight flick of his wand, Phoebe heard Harry's voice demanding angrily to be heard. "… let me speak, damn… you…" His voice petered out as he recognised the spell had been lifted.

"What, Potter?" Severus gasped, as he was able to maintain some level of control through his pain.

"You cannot heal Ron's spell damage with a traditional cure. Each time you try, it will only get worse. It is something Mad-Eye Moody taught us months ago, before you-" Harry suddenly stopped, then snorted in apparent amusement, "Fitting, don't you think?" he continued in a nasty tone.

"Before I killed him, you mean?" Severus spat fervidly. Phoebe flinched away from him in shock. "It was not me," he continued quietly, denying the accusation he himself had voiced. Phoebe allowed herself to breathe again.

"You are responsible though, I know it!" Harry snarled, hatred etched into every feature of his face. Phoebe felt suddenly uneasy about being here with both these men. She was sure she were about to bear witness to an argument that was likely to turn very ugly.

"If you are not going to help me, then _get out!_" Severus suddenly hissed, flicking his wand again to free Harry entirely from his restraints. Phoebe was surprised and a little puzzled at his actions.

Harry too was clearly shocked at being released, he took several steps toward the door then stopped. "What is this?" he asked suspiciously, "a trap?"

Phoebe felt Severus was shaking again, even worse than before he had tried to heal his injury. He groaned softly, closing his eyes and hanging his head. This made Phoebe extremely concerned, knowing how Severus felt about Harry, it would need to be something serious for the man to drop his guard like this around the boy.

"Severus?" Phoebe spoke, her tone declaring her anxiety.

"Take Phoebe with you," Severus managed to mutter, "take her to Minerva. Leave me to my fate." Severus gasped and his wand clattered to the floor.

"No!" Phoebe said in panic, her concern spiking enormously. "Harry, don't go, please don't go, help him!" she begged the teenager, tears of distress welling in her eyes and spilling down her cheek. She had moved onto her knees in front of Severus, pushing his hair that was hanging forwards, away from his face. "Severus, don't give up," she implored. He was panting, his black eyes flashing in pain, and deep lines illustrating his strain. She choked back a sob, more tears fell when she squeezed her eyes shut, praying that help will come for him. "I _need_ you, Severus… what about the baby, we _both_ need you!" she blurted, wanting to remind him, give him something to fight for.

Phoebe suddenly sensed Harry directly behind her.

"My wand?" the boy requested.

'What? He is just going to leave Severus like this?! The man will likely die. How _could_ he leave him?!'

Phoebe looked to the teenager, sniffing again and wiping her tears from her cheeks. She twisted on the spot and grasped his robes, begging frantically, "_Please_ Harry, I know how you feel about him, but please, please have mercy…" But Harry merely reached into Severus' open robes and retrieved his own wand. Severus either chose to do nothing to stop him, or simply could not do anything, Phoebe was not sure. Her fear for him magnified instantly.

"Come," Harry whispered softly, bending to her and pulling Phoebe to her feet by her elbows.

Phoebe lost her self-control then completely, "NO! No… I won't leave him!" she shouted, resisting the teenager pulling her away. But Harry was the stronger of the two, and he guided her away from the couch.

_**Pretty please review...**_


	32. Chapter 32  RAB

Will there be a sort of truce for the sake of the destruction of the Dark Lord? Does Severus have the information to solve the R.A.B. mystery and locate the missing horcrux?

Thanks to CicilyP for finding a name for Moody's legacy when I was just referring to it in terms of what it does... Love ya Cic!

Please review... :)

**Chapter 32**_ - R.A.B._

She felt Harry's hands on her upper arm, oddly in a comforting way. He would not comfort her though, he_ could_ not comfort her, "Severus! No, I won't leave you. Severus…" she called out desperately.

She would not leave with this boy, this boy who could leave a man to die. Phoebe was panicking, still fighting the teenager holding her back, "I'll get you to a hospital, I'll get you help, Severus," she said, beseeching eyes pleading to him, willing him to fight - but he was not looking at her.

Then by some miracle she heard Harry utter the words, "Hey, it's alright, I just need you out of the way… I am going to help."

His words stilled her for a moment, then astonished, she watched as he walked back to Severus and crouched in front of him. Her astonishment soon evaporated and in it's place emerged an enormous sense of relief. 'Oh, thank God, Harry was not going to leave Severus to die, he was going to help!'

Phoebe clung to the edge of the wall that separated the sitting room and the entrance, watching but not really seeing what was happening. She now noticed that she too was shaking, and she felt cold, yet somewhat sweaty. Her shoulder ached, it had begun to throb with every beat of her heart, which at this stage was quite fast.

She forced herself to focus on the man and teenager in front of her. Harry had managed to convince Severus to lie down. They were talking, civilly to one another it appeared, and then she saw Harry lift his wand. Severus did not resist, though she wondered if he even could. It didn't matter, it would be okay… Severus will be fine, Harry was helping him.

Still shaking, she began to feel a little sick. If she could just freshen up a bit, she knew she would feel better... if she could wash her face... splash cool water over her skin…

Phoebe began to walk to the bathroom, breathing in a gasp as her shoulder throbbed particularly viciously. She almost tripped herself up on a slightly raised corner of the carpet, but fortunately regained her balance when she reached the hall, steadying herself with a hand on the wall. Sliding her hand along it, she made her way to the bathroom and passed through the door, closing it quietly and habitually clicking across the lock.

She reached for the sink and turned on the cold tap, gratefully splashing the cold water over her face. The water cooled her skin, but she was far from feeling as well as she had hoped, her nausea had actually increased. She held her eyes closed, still bending over the sink and feeling her whole body shiver. Her knees were weak and she found herself struggling to hold herself upright.

"Severus…" she called, but it only came out as a whisper.

Abruptly she began to throw up into the sink, not having had time to move to the toilet. The tap was still running, washing the evidence down the drain as she retched several times. Keeping her eyes closed, she filled her cupped hand with the cool water and rinsed out her mouth. When she was sure she would not vomit again, Phoebe gave in and sank to her knees on the floor - exhausted. She lent against the sink cupboard in front of her, panting and trembling. Her injured shoulder gave another painful twang and she reached across to hold it. Alone on the bathroom floor, she began to sob quietly to herself, feeling distressed, fearful and downright miserable.

'What in Merlin's name was this magic that Moody had invented?' thought Severus desperately. He was fighting the pain with all the strength he could muster, and if he hadn't been in so much agony, there was a chance he could have been impressed. As it was, he was barely able to breathe and had recognised that he would in no way be able to protect Phoebe in the condition he was now. Furthermore, if Potter were only going to jeer at him and withhold information regarding the counter curse, he may not heal at all - and nor would Phoebe, she had been hit also. Severus had no choice but to trust the teenager with Phoebe, to take her to the Order so she may be cared for and protected. He would come for her in the unlikely event he managed to discover the remedy by himself.

He dropped his wand, not able to spare the energy to keep a hold of it. The length of timber bounced on the carpet and clattered onto the tiles out of his reach. The woman was now pleading desperately that he keep fighting, but the pain was getting worse, he did not know how much more he could take. He only knew he would refuse to succumb to unconsciousness whilst Phoebe were here to witness. He would fight it for her, because she had asked that of him, and he would _not_ disappoint her.

Potter took back his own wand from inside the dark man's robes. Severus did not attempt to stop him, the boy would need his wand to finish the war…

Phoebe was pulled from in front of him, he wanted to reach out to reassure her, she was hysterical, refusing to leave him, but Potter was dragging her away. He could not look her in the eyes, he did not want to give her false hope, he felt there was a good chance he would not make it.

Then Potter was in his face again. He wished the boy would not taunt him, he was reaching his limit, the blackness would swallow him soon.

"Lie down," Potter commanded, "Professor," the boy added, in a bizarrely subservient tone. Severus was surprised at the teen's apparent offer of help, but he was unable to register it outwardly.

"I am not your Professor," Severus responded quietly. As with Draco, he had for some reason felt compelled to set the teenager straight about the change in their association. He received no response to this remark though, only a pressure on his shoulder pushing him back to the couch. Severus found he did not have the strength to resist, the pain was thoroughly debilitating.

"The curse is a _Repeater_, repeating the initial magic with increasing regularity, and especially when attempted to heal or cease the original spell," Potter explained briefly. "It can be attached to most other incantations. It simply needs to be ended, and then healing is possible."

"I can end it?" Severus asked at a whisper, gritting his teeth as he was gripped by another spasm of pain shooting through his chest, which he now understood was the original spell repeating itself.

"No, anyone other than the victim," Potter answered. The boy had his wand raised, Severus' first instinct was to block any spell, especially from Potter, but his logic suggested the teenager meant only to assist him, and Severus knew the best way to protect and help Phoebe was to allow Potter to help him, regardless of his personal sentiment on the matter. Besides, he did not have his own wand in hand and was effectively at the boy's mercy.

"Finite Replicatum," he heard the younger wizard mutter and sensed the subtle wave of magic wash through him. "I don't yet know how to heal, you'll still have to do that for yourself," Potter then admitted.

Severus looked into the teenager's green eyes, abruptly and unexpectedly reminding him of the boy's mother - Lily - she had been kind to him on more than one occasion. Then just as quickly, the boy had reverted to the hated spitting image of his father once more.

"It is safe?" he hissed in a suspicious tone. Severus had begun to feel uneasy and dubious about Potter's motives. The boy had never kept his dislike for the dark man a secret, but Severus was fully aware that enmity had now developed into an intense hate. He felt extremely vulnerable, completely at the boys' mercy, and he disliked the feeling immensely.

"Yes… though before you ask, I didn't really do this for you. Despite your behaviour suggesting you are trying to help me, I still don't like you in the slightest. If you were here alone I might have just left you. I can't fathom why, but the woman you brought appears to care a great deal for you, she was quite distraught. I did it for her…" Potter said, indicating over his shoulder to where Phoebe had last stood. But she wasn't there, she had left the room unnoticed by both wizards. Potter looked anxiously back to Severus, "Where did she go?"

"My wand, Potter!" Severus demanded, gaining a second wind after noticing Phoebe's absence. He knew she was still injured and in distress and he needed to make sure both she and the baby were okay.

Potter hesitated in returning his wand, it was clear the boy had not been intending to trust Severus completely.

"Quickly!" he spat irately, but then decided that his anger was only increasing the boy's doubt, and he needed to foster _trust_ right now. He looked earnestly into the teenagers green eyes, "You will obviously have noticed that she is pregnant, Potter. She is injured and could be ill… I have never been a threat to you!" he implored gritting his teeth against his pain, he had to convince the stubborn boy. "My wand…" he requested again, holding out his hand.

Potter still hadn't moved, and Severus huffed in exasperation, "Fine, I'll get it myself," he snapped. Severus tried to sit up, but felt the teenager's hand holding him down. "She could be ill, don't be a fool," he growled, grunting at the pain the exertion had caused. Harry hesitated only a moment longer, but he finally must have decided to trust that Severus was indeed genuine, as he soon felt the boy place his wand into his waiting hand.

Taking the wand quickly, Severus tried again with the healing spell, and thankfully this time it appeared to be permanent. He gingerly sat upright, it was still painful to some degree, he still had internal lacerations and severe bruising, but as a whole, the pain was infinitely more bearable - however, most importantly, the injury did not _repeat_ itself

Standing and urgently stepping around the teenager who had stood alongside him, Severus strode down the hallway discovering the closed and locked bathroom door. He did not hesitate outside, but produced his wand again, "Alohomora," he muttered, and impatiently pushed the door wide open.

He found Phoebe crouched on the floor, leaning against the sink cupboard holding her shoulder, sobbing relentlessly. Severus turned off the tap that was still gushing and crouched in front of her, "Phoebe?" he whispered softly.

Potter had appeared at the bathroom doorway behind him, his expression anxious, "Is she alright?"

"Give me a moment to find out, Potter!" Severus snarled, glaring back at the teen, "Wait outside!" Turning his attention back to Phoebe, he lent in closer to the woman. "Phoebe, let me heal your shoulder, I must stop the curse," he offered, gently lifting away her hand that was supporting her injury. He noticed she did not resist his help, but continued to sob regardless.

"Finite Replicatum," he muttered, imitating Potter's cure and directing his wand toward her bruised shoulder. He then ran his wand along the length of her body to determine if she was suffering a recurrence of her symptoms from a few weeks ago. Both her and her infant's vital signs were a little elevated, though considering what Phoebe had just endured, Severus did not regard them at all as abnormal. However, he would continue to monitor them to be sure.

"Phoebe," he said again, wanting to comfort her. It was now apparent to Severus that her distress was mostly emotional. "Stop now, it is over." He invited her into his embrace with his outstretched arms, and he was slightly startled when she practically threw herself into them.

"Oh, Severus," she choked out to him, "I want to go home."

Severus felt a painful twist in his gut. _Home? _He had no home to offer her and the child, not any more. He had nothing… nothing since the night on the Tower. "Soon, shh," he whispered to her regardless, there was always Cauldron Lane for now at least. He held her firmly to him, brushing his lips soothingly against her cheek and temple. After a short while he lifted his face from Phoebe and breathed out a slow breath to calm himself. Potter was witnessing every moment of this, and he would not give the boy any further ammunition to use against him, ally or not!

"Come, Phoebe," he requested softly, helping her to her feet. He guided the woman into the bedroom and insisted that she lie down on the bed, "Rest here for a short while, I need to deal with Potter."

Severus made his way into the hallway and toward the sitting room, passing by the teenager who had indeed been observing the interaction between Phoebe and himself.

"So, who is she anyway?" Potter demanded, after the dark man had passed. Severus' animosity prickled.

"No one that concerns you, Potter," he abruptly replied.

"So it's yours then, the baby?" the teenager queried, following the dark man into the sitting room.

"Oh, how very astute of you, Potter," he retorted, unable to repress the angry sarcasm.

"And she really is a Muggle… Phoebe?"

Severus turned abruptly to face the boy, his expression livid. Phoebe's name issuing from Potter mouth infuriated him, he should never have been given the opportunity to learn of her name, "This topic does not concern you, as I have already mentioned."

"I'll take that as a _yes_, then," Potter retorted insolently. "So, what the hell are _you_ doing with a Muggle?"

"I have already said I will not discuss this with you," Severus muttered through gritted teeth, his voice waspishly low. He was almost shaking with anger and fortunately the boy recognised the dark man's building fury and backed off.

"Fine," he muttered reluctantly.

"You need not stay any longer, I assume you have achieved your Apparition licence by now?" Severus said, eager to get the boy from his sight.

"Yes-"

"And, I expect that you and your little friends will be discreet about our… meeting? Especially… Phoebe," he muttered, mentioning the woman with a loath hesitancy. "Unless of course they have blurted it to the world already," he spat, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, but-"

"Miss Granger took the Pensieve memories, be sure to watch them. Take particular note of each of them, Potter, they are extremely important. And guard them meticulously, it will be obvious they came directly from me."

"But, what about-"

"My very existence has been put on the line for your success," Severus snarled in exasperation. "You have seen what I have to lose, I have risked everything to deliver to you what is required to defeat the Dark Lord! What more do you want from me?!"

The teenager was glaring back at him, "Tell me, _why_ did you kill Dumbledore, then?!"

The mention of the Headmaster almost threw Severus off his barely maintained composure. He took a sharp breath in. Suddenly he preferred the intrusive questions about Phoebe and the anger it drew from him, than the painful stab of guilt and regret about the events of _that_ night. He swallowed, reluctant to enter into the confrontation.

This was the conversation Severus had been dreading, and he was still trying to avoid it. He struggled to find the right explanation, one the boy would accept on the spot, so he would let the topic alone.

"I would not be in this position to hand you what you need, if I had not." His expression was stony, concealing his true emotion, "You will find your answers within the memories I supplied."

"But you said you could have avoided it. What did you mean by that?"

"Damn it, Potter!" Severus growled in frustration, his emotion bubbling threateningly at the surface. "Does it surprise you _that much_ to discover I might have a conscience? I have done many foul deeds of late, none of them truly being of my own choosing, but this is _my_ role in this war, my contribution… it is what has been asked of me. Mostly I do it willingly, trusting in the wisdom of the old man, though there have been times when I have searched earnestly for a more favourable course." Severus fixed Harry with an intense gaze, steadying his voice by taking a deep breath, "If the Headmaster had allowed you to defend him, he would likely still be with us today, there may have been a way for us all to survive…" Severus' expression became cold once more, looking away, "… but he did not. You see, it was not my choice - it was his."

"Are you suggesting he _wanted you_ to kill him?"

"Dumbledore did not _want _to die, nor did I want to kill him. But he required me to be in a position to assist you, all the while knowing my credibility with the Dark Lord would need to be cemented else I would likely be killed myself, long before I was able to discover any information of value. There were also other factors involved in his decision and despite my arguments, urging and blatant refusal, the Headmaster insisted there was _no_ other way. I agreed reluctantly, though I never ceased searching for an alternative."

During Severus' explanation, Potter had displayed various expressions of comprehension, as if the man's account had clarified or confirmed facts he had prior knowledge of. "The unbreakable vow… the argument with Dumbledore in the forest," he muttered, more to himself than to the man in front of him.

Severus nodded in acknowledgment, "Yes," huffing incredulously. "It seems you already had possession of all the pieces, Potter, you only needed to put them together," he sneered with contempt. Suddenly Severus glanced toward the window, "We have lingered here too long already, you should go, before your absence is noticed by too many."

"But, what about-"

"_What_, Potter?!" Severus growled again in exasperation, losing his patience with the boy, glaring at him for what he considered was an enormous wasting of time.

"R.A.B., _Snape!_" Harry shot back, with equal venom, "You said you knew who that might be."

Severus blew out his breath, slow and deliberate, calming his fury at the boy's blatant display of disrespect, reminding himself that it was he who had pointed out to Potter that he was no longer a member of the Hogwarts' staff.

"Regulus," he hissed. "It may be Regulus Black, Sirius's younger brother. He was a Death Eater along side me in the early days, he was killed for suspected betrayal…" Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry, "Is this to do with the third horcrux?"

"Maybe," Harry mumbled, making to leave.

Severus threw out his hand and snatched a strong hold on Harry's upper arm, "Oh, no you don't! Despite our differences our goals remain the same. Sharing will only get us to them quicker, and I for one will be most pleased to see the end of all this - _spill_!" he commanded.

Unable to pull away from the firm grip, Harry looked up at Severus' determined expression with an equally stubborn one, refusing to divulge what Severus had demanded, and seeming to almost dare the dark man to attempt to take it himself.

"Well, if I must," he snarled, frustrated with Potter's defiance. Severus locked eyes with Harry, immediately delving into the teenager's mind, and to the boy's credit initially discovered an effective barrier. 'Perhaps he has heeded my advice after all?' Severus thought. Though with more perseverance Severus pushed past it, dipping into the flashes of memories and emotions with relative ease. 'Or perhaps _not_!'

First he found flickers of insignificant moments from Potter's childhood, some of which he had seen before, whilst giving the teenager Occlumency lessons in his fifth year. _A dog chasing him up a tree, jealousy over a gift, the sorting hat offering Slytherin house as a possibility_ (Severus had found that just as intriguing the first time), _a teenage desire for the Weasley girl, elation at conjuring his first patronus_, _Severus himself sneering at Potter whilst emptying the boy's cauldron of potion during class, _and then - bingo, Severus focused on what he had just found. _Entering a cave off the side of a cliff with the Headmaster, Dumbledore being force fed a green potion by Potter, the boy's self loathing at having to do so. The discovery of a locket in the bottom of a stone basin. Terror - an army of Inferi. Arriving by broom onto a Hogwarts tower. Frustration and fear - frozen in place whilst Draco threatened a weakened and vulnerable Headmaster. Horror - as Severus witnessed his own hate-filled expression whilst performing the killing curse._ _A sickening flash of green..._

The shock of seeing that memory almost caused Severus to retreat, but he managed to urge himself past it.

… _Running desperately, chasing after a murderer. Potter screaming at Severus, accusing him of cowardice - a guttural hatred. Finding the locket in Dumbledore's pocket - a deep grief. A note to the Dark Lord inside the locket, explaining that Slytherin's locket had been taken and in its place was a fake, the real locket was to be destroyed, signed R.A.B. - a severe disappointment…_

Severus had seen enough, he withdrew from Potter's mind. He was pale and shaky, his heart beating prominently within his chest - he had certainly not been mentally prepared to confront what he had inadvertently found amongst the boy's memories. Potter had turned his face to the floor, despondent. Severus had dragged the disturbing memories to the forefront of the boy's mind to examine them more thoroughly; Potter would have endured the replaying of them as well. He felt a small twang of pity for the teenager, he was very young to have had to experience such horrors. He released his grip on Potter's arm and the boy grasped for the nearby wall.

"Is there any way to tell if the real locket was indeed destroyed?" Severus queried, swiftly gathering back his usual inscrutable composure.

Potter shook his head, "No," he answered quietly.

"Well, do you have any idea where to look?"

"I was hoping the identity of R.A.B. would help me with that," Harry acridly retorted.

"And has it?" Severus snarled in response. 'The boy really did make it difficult to feel anything but loathing,' he thought, the pity he had felt only moments ago swiftly vanishing.

"No!" Harry snapped, then shaking his head, "—wait… if R.A.B _was_ Regulus, as you say, then… maybe Grimmauld Place?" Potter wore an expression of earnest concentration. "It is possible I may have seen something similar there…" He looked to Severus, "I'll find it."

Severus gave the boy a small almost imperceptible nod, "You will hear from me again, but for now you can go," Severus said, gesturing with a flick of his head. It appeared to Severus that Potter held more knowledge of the missing horcrux than he did, and there was not likely anything more Severus could do anyway, he would have to trust the teenager would indeed find it. He began to usher Potter toward the door.

"Wait…" Phoebe's voice called from the hallway. Both wizards spun in surprise to face her. "Thank you, Harry," she said, "Thank you."

Harry flicked his eyes to Severus and upon seeing the dark look on his face, he merely nodded his acknowledgment to Phoebe.

Severus watched as Harry opened the door to leave, and he found he that he could not help himself but childishly have the last word, "Do congratulate Weasley on his _eventual_ success, won't you?" he remarked sardonically, rubbing his hand over his injured ribs. "We would not want his sole remarkable achievement going unacknowledged now, would we?"

Potter only snorted at the mix of insult and compliment intended for the boy's lap-dog friend, contemptuously glaring back at Severus. But the dark man was not finished, just as Harry was pulling the door shut behind him, Severus's lip curled up in a disdainful smirk.

"Oh, and Potter, next time _do_ remember to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed."


	33. Chapter 33  On the Edge

One for the ladies this time - (not that I expect I have many, if any, male readers) - I was in the mood for a bit of romance when I wrote this, while I was trying to plot out the next part of the tale... enjoy, girls... ;)

Please review...

**Chapter 33**_ - On the Edge_

Severus turned to Phoebe as the door clicked shut, he only waited for the telltale _pop_ of Apparition before he strode down the hall to stop in front of her. They gazed at one another for a moment before Phoebe again threw herself into his arms.

"I thought I'd lost you again."

Severus snorted in amusement, "Again? Perhaps I am a cat, nine lives and so forth."

Phoebe laughed softly, pushing away from him a little to look up at his face, "So how many lives do you have left then?"

"Oh two, maybe three," Severus quipped.

He may have only been joking, but their light banter had hit a little too close to the truth to truly be humorous. Phoebe dropped her chin and covered her mouth with a hand, a dry sob escaping despite her evident attempt to fight it.

"Shh," he soothed, pulling her close again and smoothing her hair with his hand as her cheek lay against his chest beneath his chin. "Do not think about that."

They both became sombre, he kissed her lightly on the top of her head then buried his face into her hair. "Never again will I allow you to get caught up in this mess," he whispered close to her ear, "I should have known better than to let you to get involved, especially as you are pregnant." He lifted his head and pushed Phoebe away slightly, his hand had drifted down until it lay over her pregnant belly. "Are you sure both yourself and the baby are truly unharmed?" he asked, earnestly concerned.

The baby shifted under his hand and his eyes flicked down to her swollen abdomen, his own stomach gave a small spasm of thrill at feeling the movement. He felt Phoebe lay her own hand over his.

"Yes, we're both fine, I'm sure we are. You don't need to worry, Severus," she assured.

But worry was practically the most significant part of Severus' life currently. Perhaps he should have insisted that Phoebe go with Potter after all. At least with the Light side she could be cared for continuously, and they had access to medi-wizards if a problem arose. Severus thought again how lucky she was not to have been injured more severely during this latest exposure to the war that was raging around them.

Phoebe's belly was quite rotund, he observed, she was a notable way through her pregnancy. 'But exactly how far was she?' he suddenly contemplated, he had not put much thought into how much time had passed, nor had he considered before now when the child was actually due. 'How much time do I have before Phoebe will give birth?' he thought, alarmed.

"What date are you due?" he asked.

Phoebe smiled at him, "Well, I'm not entirely sure of the exact date, but sometime in early February, I think."

"So, in about three months?" Severus replied, quickly doing the calculations in his head.

"Well yes, something like that, but I've usually seen a doctor and had a scan before now to be sure. I'm still not even confident there is only _one_ baby," she said, giving Severus a cheeky smirk.

Severus gave a droll chuckle in response to her subtle reference to their joke about the possibility of twins many weeks ago. "Do not fret, there _is_ only one," he insisted, amused.

"And how do you know that?" she asked, doubting his confidence.

"I have heard his heartbeat, Phoebe… remember, when I checked your blood pressure. It is strong, you should know," he reassured, now serious.

"Really?" she questioned, emotionally.

Severus nodded, "Yes," he said.

Phoebe sighed, seeming to be relieved at the positive news. "That _is_ nice to know, thank you."

She stepped up closer to Severus, placing her hand beneath his open shirt, caressing his skin. Her touch this time was suggestive, and his body could not help but react to it, a shiver running down his spine. His mind fought for control over the automatic response of his body, he was still not used to such willing attentions from a woman, but her eagerness was powerfully convincing. Unfortunately he could not allow himself to submit to the sensations, he knew they could not remain in this house much longer in case Potter were to betray him after all, alerting the Order, or worse the Ministry of Magic, of Severus' whereabouts.

"We have to go." He could see a flicker of disappointment cross her face as she assumed he was rejecting her advances. "It is not safe here," he explained, pulling her back to him as she had begun to step away. "Though, we cannot go back to the cottage just yet, there will be too many students frequenting Cauldron Lane. Let me take you some place else, some place secluded." He kissed her ardently on the lips to reassure her of his desire. Stroking his fingers gently down her cheek, he commanded softly, "Gather your coat."

As Phoebe was pulling on her coat, he re-fastened his own buttons and adjusted his cloak. It would be cold where he was planning to take her.

There was no need to leave the house to Disapparate as Potter had done, it was not a wizard dwelling and therefore was _not_ protected by charms preventing Apparition, although the teenager had obviously assumed this was the case.

"Come, hold tight," he said, beckoning her close when they were both ready.

"This again?" she asked, with a reluctant tone.

"Yes, it is uncomfortable I know, but is the most efficient way of travelling. Come…"

"At this rate, with all the squeezing, I fear we may see this baby much sooner than in three months," Phoebe teased.

Severus snorted and raised an eyebrow at her remark, "Keep your legs crossed, then," he suggested sarcastically.

Phoebe scoffed as she moved close to him, "A typical man's response," she quipped.

"I assure you, I am _far_ from a typical man," he replied, moderately offended.

"Is that so?" she questioned, with a smirk.

"It is," he proclaimed smugly, and Severus wrapped his arm around the woman, concentrated, then turning on the spot with a swish of his robes he Disapparated them both.

The spectacular view that confronted them when they Apparated made Phoebe gasp. Severus observed her reaction and smiled to himself. The awe inspiring cliffs of Hoy, Orkney Islands were indeed breathtaking. He had Apparated them to a secluded area that was not easily accessible, and most likely governed by a stringent restricted access policy.

"Oh my God, it's beautiful. Where are we?" Phoebe asked, taking a few steps forward.

"The Islands of Northern Scotland," Severus answered, "I come here from time to time, it helps me put things that are on my mind in perspective."

Phoebe looked back at him in awe, "I am discovering you have many layers, Severus. I had no idea you would appreciate such beauty as this," she said, turning again to take in the scenery - the endless, high, sheer cliffs; the raging, unforgiving ocean as it swirled dangerously around the sharp, formidable rocks at their base. "It's truly spectacular," she remarked, at little more than a whisper.

There was a constant wind blowing across the top of the cliff. Severus watched Phoebe's hair being swept off her face as a particularly strong gust surged around them both, the frost visible as her warm breath left her mouth. She shivered, gasping again, this time at the low temperature. Severus moved up alongside the woman and wrapped his arm around her, his heavy travelling cloak covering her shoulders, protecting her from the harsh conditions.

Severus almost lost his breath too, when she gazed up at him with the same expression of delight as she'd had for the landscape.

"How can you say you had no idea of my appreciation for beauty," he whispered to her, "when the most beautiful thing on this earth lies in my arms."

He knew he had said the right thing as she had practically melted within his grasp. He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her… lovingly, tenderly. His heart leapt with a fiery passion… and he instantly realised he did not want to be without her.

They visually explored the wondrous coastline for at least twenty minutes, and apart from one occasionally pointing out to the other interesting features, they did not feel the need to communicate with words, only to maintain the comforting physical contact that both of them had sacrificed for far too long.

Severus noticed the first few snowflakes on the blustering wind, and they soon began to sting as they were fiercely blown onto the bare skin of their faces. 'It is time to retreat to the warmth of a roaring fire,' he thought, 'and with any luck, a comfortable bed.'

"Are you ready to leave?" he asked the woman snuggled into his protective grasp.

Phoebe nodded, screwing her eyes tightly closed in anticipation of Apparition. Severus smiled to himself again, 'She would just have to get used to this,' he thought, he wasn't about to give up the efficient method of travel for something as mundane as flying on a broom.

The new image of Phoebe gripping tightly onto a broomstick almost made Severus chuckle, but then it just caused him to contemplate how much more of the wizarding world he wished he had the freedom to share with her. 'One step at a time, the end is in sight,' he coaxed himself, sweeping his eyes one last time over the spectacular rugged coastline before determinedly deliberating his next destination.

Both reappeared, shrouded in the early afternoon shadow, at the rear of a Muggle pub in a nearby village. "We shall sleep here for the night. Wait here," Severus instructed. He left the woman standing alone in the deserted lane, entering the pub to acquire a room. The man at the reception desk regarded Severus suspiciously, although as he _was_ wearing his wizard robes it was to be expected in a Muggle village, the fashion of the two different cultures had rarely coincided. However, with the help of a silently cast obliviate charm, Severus managed to convince the Muggle pub owner that he appeared as normal as the man himself and that he had paid in full for the occupation of a room for the night. He returned to Phoebe promptly with a brass key.

"Number seven," he announced to the waiting woman. "This way, come." He took Phoebe's hand and led her though the dowdy pub and up the creaking stairs to the rooms above. After entering, he locked the door and cast his usual wards against intruders with his wand. Finally he turned to Phoebe, "It is comfortable enough," he said. The woman looked around the room, Severus followed her gaze as she examined the small, unlit fireplace in the middle of one wall, a double bed, a small table in the corner beside a narrow wardrobe and a small sofa, large enough for two, against another wall.

She nodded, "It's clean," she admitted, shrugging, as though she doubted that it would have been.

Severus moved to the fireplace and aimed his wand at it, "Incendio," he said, and a roaring fire burst into existence, warming the room instantly.

He helped Phoebe out of her coat and hung it, along with his travelling cloak, on a hook on the back of the door. He moved back to within inches of the woman, his eyes travelling quickly over her entire body, then fixing them back on hers.

"Am I to understand that you have no objections to spending the night here… with me?" he said softly.

She shook her head, "No… none."

Her words alone sent a shiver resembling a jolt of electricity coursing through his body, and his skin suddenly craved her touch. How was it that a woman, in particular _this_ woman, could tear down his solidly erected defences and disarm him of his fastidious control with barely any effort? He fought his natural instincts to ravage her, closing his eyes for a moment. He would have to recover his control, she would need for him to be gentle.

He leaned toward her, his eager lips finding hers, gently parted, soft and inviting. His hands found their way to her hair, his splayed fingers weaving themselves through the strands on the side of her head and cupping her cheek within his palm. The kiss was intense, serving only to shred and tear away even more of Severus' self control. He abruptly broke away from her lips, resting his cheek against hers, breathing deeply, determined not to give in to the brutal desires.

"What's wrong?" she whispered.

He paused before answering, swallowing, "I do not want to hurt you."

"Don't worry, Severus, I want this as much as you do, believe me. You won't hurt me."

No longer able to pacify his urges with any doubt of her willingness or eagerness, he returned to kissing her, moving her closer to the bed and pulling her down to sit beside him on the mattress. With one leg folded under him, he faced her squarely and began to let his hands explore her body. He gradually undressed her, and she him, until they were both bare in each other's arms.

Phoebe started to express her concern at the ugly bruise that remained on his chest, but he silenced her, "Shh, the worst of the damage has been healed, I am fine." Severus turned the sheets down from the bed and encouraged Phoebe to lie back.

His long fingers traced her curves, the new, more recent: along with the familiar, and with the knowledge that it was _his_ child growing within her, he thought she had never looked so beautiful, so inviting or so desirable. He let his hands and his mouth rediscover her every inch, lying alongside her beneath the covers. She moaned her approval at his touch, and he felt the rewards as every caress from her sparked a fire in his body.

Phoebe was lying on her side, her back against him, his body was intertwined with hers, close… intimately close. Goose bumps erupted over her flesh where he grazed her with his lips, planted tender kisses and gently stroked her body, wanting to touch every part of her all at once, wanting to own her and please her - he craved her. His own desire was hard upon him and he was reaching the limit of his restraint.

"I want you so fiercely," he breathed in her ear, barely able to contain himself.

"I want you too, take me, I am yours," she offered, kissing the palm of his hand, her breath quick and her lust as raw as his. He felt her press herself to him.

Accepting the invitation with delighted relief he pushed into her, gasping at the wave of pleasure it brought. With every rhythmic motion, he lost himself even more to the hunger of desire, oblivious in the end to every intention he'd had to be gentle. She did not complain, and as his pace quickened, she cried out with gratification as he brought her to a moment of exquisite bliss. His confidence in his ability to please her peaked, he further increased his intensity which drew renewed moans of delight from the woman in his intimate embrace. The man himself was tantalisingly close to the edge of a towering cliff of ecstasy, and within moments he finally surrendered to the lure of the plunge. He groaned aloud his own pleasure and shuddered with release, grasping her tightly, becoming keenly aware of her solid form within his arms. Moments later, he relaxed, kissing the warm skin of her shoulder where her own bruise was still prominent. Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against her, hearing the faint sounds of her heart beat gradually slowing. They both dozed off, neither having the strength, nor the inclination to move.

Exhaustion from the events of the late morning claimed both of them to deep sleep despite the fact that it was only a little after midday. Severus' injury and fighting his pain had drained him both physically and mentally, his body took advantage of the rare opportunity to snatch the additional hours of rest.

When he awoke it was dark. Phoebe had rolled over to face him, and was nestled in the crook of his arm, asleep. She looked peaceful and relaxed. In the dim light, Severus let his eyes wander over her face, conflicted by the simultaneous urge to kiss her once more; and the wish for her not to be disturbed from her own much needed rest.

Phoebe began to stir regardless, and Severus knew she would wake soon. He wondered what the time was, and silently cursed the absence of a clock from the room. If were morning already, even extremely early, he would consider returning to Cauldron Lane. Arriving under the cover of darkness would be advantageous, Potter's inadvertent abduction would not have gone totally unnoticed, and it is possible that Aurors were currently searching for him and Phoebe, regardless of the boy turning up no more than half an hour later unharmed and hopefully silent about his misadventure.

'Well, almost unharmed,' he thought. Oddly, it only just now occurred to Severus that he should have healed the cuts on the teenager's face before sending him back to Hogwarts. Potter could not very well deny an incident had transpired with the evidence so blatantly altering his appearance.

Severus huffed a sigh, it seemed everything that had happened since the night on the Tower had been a struggle for him to keep headed in the right direction. He had invested a huge effort to fulfil his part in the war and he was tired of the constant battles, tired of the tension and a little resentful of the duty Dumbledore had saddled him with. His muscles involuntarily tightened with the returned acknowledgment of the relentless burden that caused his stomach to clench with a far too frequent regularity. There was absolutely no way he would be able to sleep again tonight, the potential consequences of the previous twenty-four hours were now weighing on his mind.

Phoebe's hand lifted to feel for him, falling on his upper arm. "Are you okay?" She opened her eyes to survey him.

He did not answer immediately, he was unsure of the truth regardless of whether he had intentions of sharing it with Phoebe. "Hmm," he responded, his tone non-committal. He rolled onto his back, making to rise and discovered with a groan that he was stiff and achy throughout his body, though more so around the site of his injury. After some gentle stretches he started to feel slightly more agile and began to sit up, but found her grip resistant.

"You're still hurt, Severus, you should take some more time to relax, you shouldn't push yourself."

"I do not have that kind of time, Phoebe," he virtually snapped.

She gripped harder to his arm, "Please, Severus," she implored.

He took her fingers, gently pried her grip from his arm and sat up, as if in complete defiance of her interference. "This is nothing," he insisted, "and I have been gone too long as it is, I will be missed."

"But it's the middle of the night," she said. Severus had no idea how she knew what time it was. 'Perhaps she is guessing,' he thought.

"Unlike some, I do not have the luxury of unlimited leisure time," he snapped with spite, but immediately regretted the comment and the tone with which it was delivered.

"What!?" she spat, with disbelief.

In an effort to move on from the awkward moment, Severus reached for his coat and began to rummage in its pockets for his small timepiece attached to the inner pocket by a silver chain. He flicked open the lid and attempted to read the time. It was impossible in the darkness, so he retrieved his wand and ignited the tip with a silent spell. It was a little past two in the morning.

Beside him, Phoebe got out of the bed and began to dress. She was obstinately silent and he knew that he had offended her. He should apologise, he surmised, but he was unsure how to begin. He felt inept, it was not often that he had needed to use the word _sorry_. Usually he weighed every word and the reactions they would draw before he spoke and most often he meant every last one to be taken at face value. But he hadn't meant to insult Phoebe, he was just frustrated, anxious and a little overwhelmed with what the next step of his duty would bring.

Wormtail would surely have become curious about his absence by now, though that would be the least of his worries if the rat-like man had seen him arrive briefly onto Spinner's End - accompanied by Harry Potter, no less. Things were beginning to spiral out of Severus' control. He would have to re-enter the Dark Lord's service soon entirely clueless as to whether he were walking into a trap or not.

Furthermore, the Dark Lord's patience was wearing dangerously thin regarding the capture of Lupin, therefore even if Severus' exploits of the previous several hours remained veiled, the dark man would undoubtedly be on the receiving end of further torture and torment.

Severus placed his timepiece securely back into his pocket. "Phoebe…" Severus began.

"Get dressed, Severus," Phoebe said, icily.

He sighed softly, she wasn't going to make this easy. "I have to go back, Phoebe… but I am… worried."

His comment had the desired effect, the woman ceased getting dressed and stared at him. "What do you mean?" she asked, "Worried about what?" Her expression clearly showed her concern.

"The street we Apparated into first after leaving Hogsmeade…"

"I remember - you were extremely anxious to leave there," Phoebe acknowledged.

"Yes, because it was my street - where I have been living, though not alone. Pettigrew resides there with me. He is supposedly assisting me, though the Headmaster and I agreed that it was more likely that he was there to keep an eye on me. The Dark Lord has never fully trusted me, I fear."

"Pettigrew? Do you mean the man you said had Ravenclaw's key?"

"Yes."

"My God, Severus, do you think he may have seen us?"

"Perhaps, it is possible. I just do not know," Severus admitted, shaking his head slightly.

"Well, why did you take us there, then?" Phoebe asked, incredulously.

"It was instinctive, Phoebe, I hardly had time to think," Severus retorted, a little irritated that she was questioning his judgement and decisions. He stood and began to pull on his trousers. "It was my family home," he explained quietly, "it was the first place that came to mind and I had to get you away from there quickly." Severus fastened the button and reached for his shirt.

"Despite this, you still intend to go, don't you?" Phoebe questioned emotionally.

He turned to face her, though could barely look into her eyes. "Yes," he admitted.

"God, this nightmare never ends," she stated dejectedly, sinking back onto the edge of the bed.

Turning away from her, Severus continued to dress. 'It will end,' he thought, 'one way or another… it _will_ end.'

**_He, he, he - leave a review and let me know how you are feeling now, eh? ;) Do you need a tall, dark, surly wizard to Apparate into your living room? evil chuckle_**


	34. Chapter 34  Shades of Grey

Severus cannot avoid it any longer, Lupin is just an unavoidable casualty in this war... but how will he capture him - the Order will have certainly tightened their ranks since Harry Potter's temporary abduction?

Please review...

**Chapter 34**_ - Shades of Grey_

Less than twenty minutes later, Phoebe and Severus stood at the side of Cauldron Lane opposite the cottage at number seventy-seven. It was still dark and apparently deserted. They crossed to the door and Severus admitted them with his wand. Erlin met them in the sitting room.

"Master, Mistress, I was beginning to worry."

"That will be all, Erlin," Severus ordered, not wishing to engage in any conversation with the house-elf.

"I'm hungry, Severus, aren't you?" Phoebe asked.

"I can wait… though I guess you shouldn't. Prepare something for Phoebe to eat, Erlin," he said, waving the house-elf away, satisfied that at least the creature would not be in the same room as them for now.

Severus studied Phoebe a moment as she took a seat on the couch and put her legs up. "Are you feeling well," he questioned. He had just realised that she had not taken a dose of Quellin this morning.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she answered looking up at him, "why?"

"You are not feeling ill at all?" he asked.

"No, I… I'm good actually. I haven't been feeling so bad without the potion lately," she responded, catching on quickly to his concern.

Erlin returned with a meal of baked beans on toast and presented it to Phoebe. "Go back to bed after this," Severus insisted, "it is still early. I have things I need to do."

She stared directly at him for several moments without saying a word. He held her gaze, but soon began to feel uncomfortable. He looked away, and mumbled quickly, "I have to go."

"Aren't you afraid?" she suddenly asked.

The house-elf was still standing beside Phoebe. Severus gave the creature a piercing glare, "Erlin, go!" he demanded. As the house-elf scurried off, Severus approached Phoebe. He knelt on one leg at her side, locking his eyes with hers. "If you must know… yes. Yes, I am afraid. But feelings such as those serve me no purpose. You know I have to do this."

She nodded reluctantly, "We will be waiting for you."

He nodded, then abruptly reached out to her, kissing her on her cheek, then continuing to nuzzle against the side of her face with his own. Her arms wrapped around him and he suddenly felt terrified that this may be the last time he would feel her embrace, comforting and warm. He pulled away and stood to leave, his eyes sweeping over her face. He could not find appropriate words to say, so turned to the door without saying anything further.

After closing the cottage door behind him, Severus pondered his next move. "It is time… Lupin," he whispered quietly, biting gently on his lower lip then blowing out a calming breath.

He Apparated to Spinner's End.

"Wormtail!" Severus shouted as he entered through the front door of his house. He waited, his heart beating faster than he liked, his stomach twisting anxiously, but he ensured his body did not betray his nervousness. His sleeve concealed his fist grasped tightly around his wand which could be wielded to defend himself instantly.

Severus then heard the noises of his house mate as he was making his way down the concealed staircase. With one deep breath, Severus steeled himself for the possible confrontation.

The short man emerged from the bookcase door. "I'm back, I'm back," he declared.

Although taken by surprise, Severus collected himself instantly. "Where have you been?" he growled. "Lupin will not obligingly remain vulnerable forever!" he snapped angrily. His body wanted to sigh with relief, but he knew that reaction would raise Pettigrew's suspicion, so he forced himself to display an impatient intolerance toward the rat-like man instead, which to Severus' contentment, caused Wormtail to flinch.

"Lucius is impatient, he was trying to find Remus himself, he had me tailing Arthur Weasley," Wormtail explained.

This news caused Severus to feel unnerved. Lucius, it seemed, was still intent on destroying the Weasley family along with Lupin, despite the objection Severus had expressed.

"Get him here, now!" Severus ordered. "I have what we need on Lupin."

Wormtail looked at Severus with an expression of alarm. Severus noticed his reaction with interest. 'He is reluctant?' Severus thought to himself. 'What is this… am I seeing what I think I am seeing?'

"Now, Wormtail!" he snapped impatiently.

"Okay," Wormtail whimpered and made for the door. As he exited, Severus retreated to his cellar laboratory to prepare a potion. He would not have enough time to compete it before Lucius arrived with Wormtail, though he would be able to begin the process at least. He took up his knife and began to chop an array of ingredients with care and precision, keeping an alert ear out for the Death Eaters arrival. He had three days… three days would be enough to complete the brew and set his plan in motion. Severus paused momentarily… 'Lupin had only three more days,' he thought regretfully. Sighing, Severus pushed aside his tormenting thoughts and continued to prepare the ingredients, there was nothing he could do… it was beyond his control.

As he pushed a small pile of crushed beans from his chopping board into the bubbling cauldron, Severus heard the opening and closing of his own front door. Lucius was here. He placed the board and knife to rest on the bench beside the cauldron, locked the door behind him with magic, and stepped lightly up the steps into his kitchen.

Voices were heard, more than the two expected ones. A female voice - Bellatrix had arrived along with her brother-in-law, it seemed.

Severus emerged from the small kitchen into the sitting room to join the Death Eaters.

"I see you have invited yourself along, Bellatrix," Severus accused, his tone disdainful.

"You meant to exclude me, Snape?" Bellatrix questioned venomously, glaring at Severus.

"Not at all, I merely requested an audience with Lucius for the time being to impart my initial findings regarding Lupin. By all means, Bellatrix, if you wish to feel - _included_ - do feel free to stay." Severus tilted his head at her arrogantly, he was in no mood to deal with her acid remarks today, though recognised that he seemed to have little choice in the matter. He turned to face Lucius.

"I know where Lupin will be three days from now," Severus announced to the blond man, "and he will be there alone - it is the full moon."

"You wish for us to take him transformed?" came Lucius' incredulous and somewhat alarmed retort.

"He is dangerous, you've seem him Snape, one of us could easily be bitten," Pettigrew whined.

"Do you take me for a fool, Lucius?" Severus spat, ignoring Wormtail entirely. "Of course I would not risk an encounter with a fully grown transformed werewolf!"

Both Lucius and Wormtail looked somewhat relieved, clearly neither wizard harboured any ambitions of facing a werewolf in its prime.

"Not unless the creature had been properly _medicated_, so to speak," Severus continued surreptitiously.

"What on earth are you blathering about, Snape?" demanded Bellatrix.

Severus snapped his head toward the dark haired woman curling his lip in a sneer. "Wolfsbane, Bellatrix," he said smoothly, "You have heard of it, have you not? It renders a werewolf virtually a harmless wolf if consumed before transformation." This explanation was not precisely true, though Severus betted that neither

Bellatrix nor the other wizards in the room would make the distinction from the potion's exact effects.

"I know the potion, Snape, do not patronise me!" she snapped at him, which caused him to smirk even more. Severus found goading Bellatrix a rather enjoyable sport at present. He continued to gloat at her until Lucius' looming figure moved between himself and the woman, obstructing the dark man's contemptuous gaze and demanding Severus' attention for himself.

And how do you intend to ensure such a … _concoction…_ is indeed consumed?" Lucius questioned, throwing his hand up in a gesture which emphasised his lack of faith in the formulating scheme.

"I am at this very moment brewing said potion, and I have a plan to administer it," Severus said concisely. "He will drink it, I guarantee."

Behind both Lucius and Bellatrix, Severus noticed Wormtail looked on edge once more.

"Continue Snape, your plan intrigues me," Lucius smoothly requested, his eyes flashing with curious excitement.

"My guarantee will have to be enough, Lucius, these particular details will not be your concern. _You_ will lay waiting to ambush the creature when he ventures outside his sanctuary."

"I see," Lucius acquiesced, though it was absolutely clear the blond man was far from accepting about being kept out of the loop regarding the details of the plan to capture Lupin.

"You, along with Wormtail here… oh, and Bellatrix if she still wishes to be involved, that is?" Severus said smarmily, tipping his head to the side to regain his view of the dark haired woman who was by now looking enraged by his taunting.

"Of course!" she responded through gritted teeth, "Neither I nor Rodolphus would ever turn down an opportunity to do the Dark Lord's bidding. We are not the slithering type, Snape, unlike _some_," Bellatrix shot accusingly at the dark man accompanied by a hateful glare.

"How very conscientious of you," Severus sneered sarcastically. "The more the merrier, no doubt. Three days, meet here two hours before sunset."

Bellatrix scoffed in disgust and stalked off to the door, and Lucius gave Severus a tiny nod accompanied by a small approving smile. "Until three days time, my friend," and he also moved toward the door.

"Lucius, Bellatrix," Severus saluted as they exited, and almost snorted a laugh as he heard the dark haired woman growl her displeasure in a very un-lady like way. Severus snapped the door shut behind them and turned back to the room.

"You are tempting fate provoking her," Wormtail remarked.

Severus scoffed impertinently, "Don't be such a coward, Wormtail, she is merely a woman." He did not genuinely feel Bellatrix was at all harmless, though he had no inclination to confirm to Wormtail the existence of his insecurities.

"It is a mistake to underestimate her is all I have to say," Pettigrew replied.

"What has gotten into you? Has she threatened you in some way?" asked Severus circling the short rat-like man menacingly, surveying him closely.

"N-No," Pettigrew stammered, taking a step backwards so his back was almost against the bookshelf to prevent Severus from circling around him further.

"Well, what is it then? What are you afraid of?" he hissed, stopping dead in front of Pettigrew, his face inches from the short man's.

"N-Nothing," he stammered once again.

"Lupin, then?" Severus accused, "perhaps you fear his judgement."

"He has already passed judgement on me-"

"Or is it perhaps his… teeth," Severus murmured slowly, pausing for maximum effect and hissing the last word.

Pettigrew indignantly made to move away, but Severus pushed him roughly back against the bookcase.

"Oh, no, no, no , you have no fear of his teeth, I forgot, you spent a great deal of time with those razor sharp teeth, didn't you Wormtail? What secrets of his you must conceal… and he about you. I am curious, Wormtail, what is it about yourself that you are afraid Lupin may reveal?"

Severus must have hit a nerve with that comment, as Pettigrew reacted violently, shoving Severus away and reaching within his robes for his wand. The dark man whipped his own wand from his cloak and faced off with the rat-like man.

"Put it away, you fool. You were never any match for me!" Severus snarled.

Pettigrew merely stood stock still, seething in his fury. His wand hand shook ever so slightly and then the short man abruptly lifted his chin defiantly. "Lupin knows _no_ more about me than you do," he snapped.

Severus smirked mockingly, "You would be surprised what _I_ know about you, Wormtail. You'd be surprised…" Severus held Pettigrew in an intense and intimidating gaze for several moments longer, then tore his eyes away. "In any case…" Severus began, slipping his wand back within his robes, "I have work to do, you may find me in the cellar if I am needed," and promptly turned his back on Pettigrew, making his way through the small kitchen and down the cellar stairs.

Severus found the cauldron still bubbling heartily upon the wooden workbench, and he resumed preparing and adding ingredients at the appropriate moments. His movements were methodical yet automatic, he had prepared this potion many times before. His mind was occupied with analysing Pettigrew's recent odd behaviour. Severus, more than anybody, understood that nothing and no one in this world were simply black or white, but merely varying shades of grey…

Phoebe stayed on the couch after she ate. She felt there was no chance she could fall asleep just now. Despite the distraction Severus had treated her to in Northern Scotland, Phoebe still felt a little in shock at the confrontation she'd had with Harry Potter - a roller coaster of alternate sensations of fear and pain, a moment of relief then more pain followed by pure terror, distress and finally relief once more. And this boy was supposedly from the _allied_ side. Did that mean the enemy was far more vicious and frightening? It was terrifying in itself to contemplate.

She pondered what life was like for Severus in the middle of all of this - fiercely unwelcome, intensely hated and greatly feared or perhaps his mere existence simply balancing on the precipice of extreme danger - it was no way to live. She felt so bad for him, it must hurt terribly not to be trusted, not to be accepted, yet he seemed to deal with it exceptionally well, almost as if the situation were like an old friend. 'Perhaps it is,' she thought sadly, remembering a brief moment from many months ago, walking with Severus through the dungeon corridors at Hogwarts and noticing the students avoiding the man for all they were worth. Phoebe had snickered to herself that day, finding it amusing that he was unpopular, surmising that he was undoubtedly seen as intimidating and surly in the eyes of the children, but Phoebe did not find this remotely funny any more. He deserved better treatment from everyone, he was so daring and brave. He was, in fact, a hero. A hero who has never received any recognition, nor any support. Severus was a very strong man to do what he had been doing for months now, entirely alone. She was immensely proud of him.

Phoebe's thoughts turned to Harry Potter. She felt so grateful to the teenager for helping Severus when he was injured. It had been very frightening when she thought Harry was going to leave the man to die, but thankfully he hadn't. Phoebe did not know what she would have done if that had been the case, it was almost too horrific to consider.

As she thought about the teenager, she realised that even Harry, who now knew the most about what Severus had been doing these past several months, did not value Severus as he should, with all that he had contributed and all that he had risked to help bring about the destruction of the Dark Lord. Though she had to admit, from his behaviour, Severus did not seem to value Harry any better.

Phoebe had overheard their sniping at one another. It was ridiculously childish behaviour from the both of them, and a seemingly well practiced routine, one might observe. Their animosity toward one another ran deep, that much was obvious, so for either of them to have made the small effort they had, to put aside their differences to work together, was testimony to the drastic circumstances of this war. 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend - this phrase pretty much sums it up,' Phoebe thought, half amused, though she doubted Severus and Harry would ever actually be _friends_.

Suddenly Phoebe took in a sharp breath, she felt quite odd. She ran her hand over her belly and discovered the muscles quite taut. She wasn't in pain, just a feeling of tightness. Phoebe breathed slow and deliberate until the sensation seemed to abate.  
A little worried, she contemplated calling for Erlin, but realised the absence of the headache which had accompanied the high blood pressure last time. And she didn't feel distressed, sick or uncomfortable even, because the tightness had now gone away. The tight sensation had not desisted last time at all, only gradually getting worse until she had fainted.

Slightly alarmed, Phoebe considered whether it was actually a contraction she was experiencing instead. 'But it's too early for the baby to be born, I'm not even thirty weeks yet,' she worried, wishing Severus were here to calmly tell her everything would be alright. However she then remembered it hadn't hurt at all; though maybe the early ones didn't. She had never experienced normal _early_ contractions before, as she had been induced with every one of her previous pregnancies because she was overdue with each of them. Induced contractions were quite vicious by nature, even the first few. 'Severus would have read about this,' she thought, not having been able to convince herself she was fine, she just didn't know for sure and again wished the wizard was here with her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to recall all her knowledge about pregnancy and childbirth, it had been years since she had read anything on the subject. And then it came to her - painless contractions from as early as twenty weeks - Braxton Hicks contractions, the womb's practice contractions. Phoebe sighed with relief, her baby was not in danger and she was not in labour. She took a deep breath and decided to take a nice warm shower and fall into her bed, she was beginning to feel rather exhausted after all.


	35. Chapter 35  Of the Mind

The preparations are set, arrangements are made, Severus has no choice...

Please review.

**Chapter 35**_ - Of the Mind_

Standing on the doorstep of number twelve Grimmauld Place, Severus produced his wand. He had observed the premises for a number of hours now, ensuring the house was empty. 'Alohomora,' he thought, and the door swung open for him silently. Nothing was certain, he would enter with caution and not allow himself to be caught by surprise if there was an occupant after all.

He made his way down to the basement kitchen, mindful not to make any noise with his footfalls as he went. The large wooden table stood in the middle of the room with its many chairs tucked neatly around it. Staring at it now, running his fingers gently along the wood grain, Severus remembered he had never felt welcome at this table, 'or even in this house, for that matter,' he thought, taking in the rest of the room with his careful gaze.

He had always been treated with suspicion and hostility, but there was little doubt that he had earned it with an enigmatic and shadowy past such as his own. Because of this, he had never had the desire to stay and have a meal with other Order members, not that anyone ever invited him to stay of course, but it was understood that every member could eat here if they wished. No, the others were just as glad to see the back of him as he was to leave, he knew it to be so.

Frowning at his own fickle and unexpected sentimentality, Severus reached into his robes and withdrew the bottle of completed Wolfsbane potion and placed it on the corner of the wooden table. The label clearly displayed the name of the contents of the bottle in his own small spidery writing. Severus turned the bottle slightly so that the label faced directly outwards. 'Lupin will need to have no doubt that the potion is intended for him,' Severus thought… 'or who has provided it.'

Severus fidgeted slightly, remorse tearing at his insides, 'How am I going to be able to live with myself after this?' his conscience reproached his traitorous motives.

'There is no other way,' he insisted silently, 'I do not have a choice,' he tried to convince himself, but knew deep down it was a futile attempt to allay his own guilt. He was inexcusably responsible for the ways in which he manipulated those around him to get what he wanted or needed, regardless of his justification. He was undeniably as guilty of treason as his own mind accused.

Severus licked at his dry lips and took in a sharp breath, very nearly snatching the bottle back, but instead he whipped around and hastily retreated through the kitchen door, up the stairs and out through the front door, his black robes swooping in his wake.

Once outside, he glanced back at the house and watched as it dissolved from sight. He began to question whether he needed to follow through with this at all. 'I have the location of the Dark Lord's horcruxes, I should just tip Lupin off to the attempt to capture him. It is time for me to get out of this.'

But locating the items was not enough and Severus knew it. They needed to be retrieved and subsequently destroyed. A task only likely achievable with his assistance from inside the Death Eater ranks. And Potter clearly needed as much help as was possible, given what he had observed of the boy three days previous. The boy was remarkably unprepared and unskilled to face the Dark Lord. There was very little chance he could actually win any one on one battle. Severus remained quite perplexed at how Potter had managed to survive this long, as it was. 'It must have been,' as Severus had suggested to Bellatrix over a year ago, 'due only to the teenager's astounding good fortune and the backing of more talented friends.'

Severus Disapparated, his mind now toying sarcastically with the idea that he had now become one of Potter's _much_ more talented friends.

He entered his childhood home once again, striding purposefully to the liquor bottles in the corner of the room. He took up a glass, filled it with firewhisky and practically flopped down into his usual armchair, sloshing a tiny amount of the amber liquid over his hand and onto the worn fabric of the seat. He swapped the glass to his right hand and sucked the rivulets of alcohol off his skin. His tongue detected a smooth flavour, followed by a bitter aftertaste - somewhat similar to the situation he found himself in at this moment - agreeably taking the steps to end the reign of horror by Dark Lord, but in turn causing suffering and torment to many members of the light side, ironically himself included. He took a large swig from his glass, wishing he could release all self control and get blinding drunk, dulling all his feelings and dismissing all his worries - but he knew that would never be an option for him.

He sighed resignedly, resting the glass against his forehead, 'Sacrifice is noble, Severus - you keep telling yourself that…' he thought sardonically to himself.

Draining the glass, he dragged himself from the armchair and made his way to his bedroom. With all preparations set, Severus could afford himself an early retirement, the following evening will offer no such luxury as sleep.

He was there. He could hear him. The ragged breath of the creature no more than several metres away with only a thin wooden door separating it from him. Severus' heart was beating wildly and he felt a small tremor in his hand. He stilled it momentarily by clasping his fists together around his wand, then re-gripping the slender length of timber in his right hand, he held it ahead of him once more. He let out a silent but calming breath - the werewolf is safe, the potion has been consumed, the empty bottle lay discarded on the floor within the dark man's view. _He_ was safe, Severus was sure - but still his body betrayed him, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, the tremor returning to his outstretched hand.

He crept toward the door and pushed it gently, testing to determine whether the hinges would make a sound. He heard no noise, so pushed harder to swing the door ajar further… just enough so he may squeeze through.

Through the darkness he spied the creature, it's hair matted and dirty. It was curled in a ball in the darkest corner of the room, occasionally grunting in discomfort, its breathing still laboured. Severus manoeuvred himself silently until he had the werewolf in his full sight and fixed a sneer on his face, his eyes glittering.

"It's time," he spoke quietly to the beast.

The werewolf jumped immediately to its feet, startled at the Wizard's presence. It snarled at Severus, and suddenly lifted its head and gave the most blood-curdling howl the dark man had ever heard.

Severus took an involuntary step backwards before he managed to gather his nerve once more. The door through which he had just come made a squeak as it was opened behind him. His eyes only left the creature for a moment, as he turned his head behind him to identify this new threat, but when he discovered the room mystifyingly empty, other than himself and the beast of course, he flicked his gaze back to the creature - only to find it gone.

Scanning the room frantically for the deadly animal, Severus instantly discovered the shadowy passageway directly in front of him. The werewolf must have retreated into the darkness. The dark man made steps to follow the creature, both knowing he was at a disadvantage because of the darkness and the lack of knowledge about where the passage led. Nevertheless he pushed forward into the blackness, stretching his free arm out to the passage wall. For many metres it was smooth, but then abruptly it became rough and damp. His senses sharpened in the darkness, allowing him to hear a faint trickling of water from far away and a musty scent filled his nostrils. 'Where in Merlin's name did this passageway lead?' he thought, pausing mid-step, dread settling in the pit of his stomach. Severus felt entirely vulnerable without adequate vision, and instantly decided he needed to rectify the problem, igniting the tip of his wand silently. The rough walls were quickly identified as rocks and earth. He was in a underground tunnel and occasionally his outstretched fingers had brushed through the small rivulets of leaking ground-water which ran down the walls and puddled at his feet. His rapidly growing alarm now placated slightly by the ability to see, Severus continued to move forward in the tunnel.

He suddenly heard scratching noises up ahead accompanied by low rumbling growls. He held his wand out further from his body, lifting it slightly higher so the light it cast may extend in front of him a greater distance. His breathing came in more rapid gasps as his fear peaked once more. 'He is safe, he has consumed the potion,' he reminded himself, though with less certainty now that the empty bottle was not in his sight.

The low growls turned suddenly into frightening snarls and the scratching became violent and desperate, then he was suddenly snatched backwards by a forceful wrench on his collar.

"We've got to get out of here!" yelled a desperate voice that Severus recognised as achingly familiar.

"Move, MOVE!" the voice screamed, urging him backwards helped along by the strong tugging on his collar again, which then moved to his arm.

Severus tried to turn, to confirm his shocked recognition of that voice. 'How is this possible?' he thought stunned. But as he swung around, a deafening crash and splintering of timber, followed by a terrifying howl from the werewolf so close behind him, plummeted him into rapid action, scrambling with desperate terror away from the savage beast. 'The potion has not worked!' he thought in panic, now pushing the body in front of him with frantic impatience, trying to put as much distance between himself and the monster as quickly as possible. His wand had extinguished, but he grasped the length of timber frantically in his fist in case he should need it instantly.

The two figures blindly ran through the darkness, and at one stage Severus faltered on the slippery and uneven terrain, tripping as his foot caught under an exposed tree root. He fell heavily, knocking his head severely on a rock that was jutting out an excessive distance compared with the rest of the lining of the tunnel wall. A little dazed, he struggled frantically to find his footing once more, and thankfully found desperate hands yank him to his feet. He felt the warm trickle of what must be blood roll down the side of his face. The pounding of his pulse at his temple was now accentuated by the painful throb as a result of his head injury.

Another howl close behind him spurred him on to run again, those hands pulling and assisting him through the narrow twisting pathway ahead of him. Through his terror, he was barely aware of his deep gratitude for the hands that were guiding him. His head was now spinning and he was struggling merely keeping himself upright, let alone navigating efficiently through the difficult passageway.

"Nearly there! Faster, come on!" coaxed the voice, and Severus glanced up at the owner of that voice in time to see a familiar invisibility cloak slide from a teenager's head of messy black hair, revealing...

"Potter… James?" Severus breathed, coming to an abrupt halt, stunned at the presence of his schoolyard nemesis.

He blinked in disbelief at what he was seeing, but when he looked again, it was not James Potter helping him, but Peter… Peter Pettigrew… _Wormtail_!

An ear piercing howl emitted from directly behind him, and when he turned in alarm, he discovered their pursuing monster was now only inches from him. The werewolf's putrid breath engulfed Severus as, with a horrifying snarl, the beast lunged at his throat…

Severus woke up with an anguished and terrified holler, his arms flailing wildly. He jerked himself into a sitting position in panic, shaking uncontrollably and drenched in sweat. His heart was racing, his breath ragged and entirely out his control. He screwed up his eyes as he gasped small moans, his mind gradually identifying the disturbingly vivid images as being merely a dream… a nightmare. Relief began to wash over him, but he knew it would take many minutes to recover from this subconscious fright. The images were now replaying within his mind, the detail so unbelievably vivid he actually had to fight hard to resist the prickle of distressed tears building in the back of his eyes.

He breathed deeply through his nose, throwing back his bed covers and pushing himself to his feet, and after pacing for several moments, he leaned against the nearest wall, resting his forehead against the smooth, cool surface. He abruptly cursed out loud and pounded his fist on the wall in anger and frustration at his own mind's torment of itself.

'Why in Merlin's name would I dream of a dead man? A long since _dead_ man, at that!' he thought brutally. The werewolf he could understand, and even the presence of Wormtail, but why was Potter Senior a part of this scenario?

After a moments consideration, he concluded that it was probably just mere coincidence. Potter had been involved in the traumatic incident involving a werewolf, _the_ werewolf, in Severus' youth, after all.

He cursed loudly again, and rubbed his hands over his eyes, taking in another deep breath and expelling it with a shudder.

Above all Severus had experienced in his life, that incident in the tunnel beneath the Whomping willow in his sixth year was by far the most terrifying he had ever had to endure. He didn't think he had ever come as close to death, especially in such a brutal manner, as that night, confronted so intimately by a full-grown werewolf. Perhaps it was because of his age at the time, or perhaps it was just the nature of the attack, but Severus would never truly understand why it affected him so much. The memories had given him nightmares for years afterwards, before he had learned to suppress them with Occlumency. But now, to have those images rear themselves again, after all these years, connected so closely with events about to take place in his life, was deeply unsettling for the dark man.

If he at any moment had any excuse for doubt about his present course of action, it would be right now. But should he chalk this incident up as a genuine warning, or merely the paranoia brought on by a previous bad experience?

Severus chuckled ironically at the idea of a branch of Divination - premonition - even being considered by him; given the disdain he held for the practice… prophecies aside, that is, remembering the prophecy made by Sybill Trelawney that had thrust him into this mess in the first place.

The emergence of his dry humour suggested he was slowly recovering from the scare, so he made the few steps to his bed and collapsed into it, dragging the covers over him as he reclined. It was still dark, he should try to get more sleep, he would need it for tomorrow night when he would re-enact his nightmare scenario for real, preferably this time, _minus_ the appearance of James Potter (or any Potter for that matter) and the revelation that his perfectly brewed Wolfsbane Potion was rendered inactive for some unknown reason. He rolled onto his side and using his skills, soothed his mind and relaxed his body so that no more than fifteen minutes later, he was drifting once again into a deep sleep. Isn't Occlumency remarkable…

The peeking of light through his bedroom window roused Severus the next time. 'A much more pleasant fashion in which to wake,' he thought snidely, but then his mind betrayed him when he remembered just _what_ exactly he would hope to achieve before the chiming of midnight this evening.

'Sacrifice, Severus, sacrifice…' he reminded himself once more. With a snort he acknowledged his reasoning was flawed, no matter what kind of spin he put on it. Instead, he wiped his thoughts from his mind and went about preparing himself for the day, fretting occasionally over the details, but never allowing his mind to dwell on the victim.

Lucius, Rodolphus and Bellatrix arrived precisely on time, and after a quick discussion confirming the plan, the five of them (including Wormtail) took up their positions when Severus Apparated them, via means of side-along-apparition, to the street adjacent to Grimmauld Place.

Severus had made the assumption fairly safely that Lupin had already entered the house, not leaving any chance that he may be delayed before nightfall and have his transformation occur outside a secure location and endanger the public. Severus scoffed, 'Lupin had always been the responsible type.'

As it were nearing dark now, any Order members who had accompanied Lupin (if any had) would have made their leave by now. Customarily, Lupin would have locked himself in with magic - Severus knew this, as it had been the Werewolf's practice whilst he were teaching at Hogwarts. Werewolves in their transformed state, even under the influence of Wolfsbane, were unable to wield magic, therefore it was impossible for the beast to escape with the exception of force - unless, of course, someone else were to unlock the door; cue Severus.

The dark man would then proceed to lure the creature out onto the street where, with the assistance of the other Death Eaters, Severus would subdue and restrain him. It was likely to take two or three of them to accomplish this, as werewolves were traditionally very strong and resilient beings, much like giants.

The danger was that although Lupin would have consumed the Wolfsbane Potion and have control of his own mind, he was still very much a dangerous creature. His strength, resistance and most importantly his transforming _bite_, would be unaffected by the Potion. This was the distinction that Bellatrix had failed to correct Severus on when he first revealed his plan. Lupin would be a wolf as _harmless_ as his own mind allowed him to be, and no more.

The five Death Eaters waited until darkness descended before they took up their final positions guided by Severus and waited tirelessly for the moon to materialise. It rose into the sky unnoticed at first, hidden behind some dense clouds, but as soon as Severus witnessed the full rounded glow of the orb, he nodded his intentions to the others and approached the house…


	36. Chapter 36  A Hair's Breadth

This is my first chapter written post Deathly Hallows. Consequently the chapters will probably come a little bit slower from now on, but rest assurred that I will not ever abandon it. Upon saying that though, I'll try to write a bit more frequently to satisfy your eagerness --- if I'm TOLD of your eargerness, of course, get it??? ;) Please do leave me a review... they are the light of my day!

The nightmare rattled Severus, and now he has to face the real mission... how will things be different?

**Chapter 36**_ - __A Hair's Breadth_

His hand was trembling - this was his nightmare all over again, it seemed. But he was not a coward, he would face his fears defiantly. He drew his wand as he ascended the front steps to the house but stopped immediately outside the door.

He knew he would have moved out of the hidden Death Eaters' sights by now, camouflaged under the umbrella of the Fidelus Charm that was active on the premises, and he took advantage of the cover to pause and collect himself, the images of the previous nights vivid dream were haunting his thoughts.

Clasping his fists together to cease the tremor, he drew a deep breath and erected the blank wall of defence within his mind. As calm descended, the shaking stopped and he lifted his wand once more.

He tapped his wand on the door, silently commanding the enchantment to release the door from its locking spell. After a soft _click_, the door swung open gently. Unconsciously, he let the events in his dream guide him directly to the basement kitchen where he carefully pushed on the door. It opened without sound and allowed the dark man to peer into the large room beyond. Severus' eyes were drawn directly to the corner in which he had seen the beast in his nightmare; it was - blessedly - vacant! Next his eyes sought the table on which he had carefully placed the small bottle of Wolfsbane potion where Lupin would easily discover it. The bottle was overturned and… empty.

Severus could see no sign of any spillage of the liquid that had once occupied the bottle as his gaze swept the room, assessing the likely situation rationally. No puddles, the bottle empty and discarded. His logical brain insisted that if Lupin had poured the contents of the bottle down the sink, he would have discarded the bottle next to it, and not back on the table… wouldn't he? Only one option left - he drank it!

With a sigh, Severus nodded to himself. He had been counting on the fact that the transformation into a werewolf was extremely painful and distressing for Lupin, and that the lure of the potion and the lessening of these symptoms was too great for him to resist… this, along with the fact that Severus had not betrayed Nymphadora. Though with regret, Severus remembered he'd had no intention when he had acted to save the Auror's life to use the resulting _trust_ against another Order member in the future, least of all the one person he knew Nymphadora would have been most eager to save. Another searing surge of guilt tore through him and he swore quietly to himself before he was able to sweep the sensation away.

With one last glance around the kitchen, he made for the door. The werewolf was not here in this room, he did not have the time, nor the inclination, to linger in this infernal place… nor with this detestable task!

He approached the staircase after checking all the ground floor rooms and finding no trace of the werewolf, and trod lightly on each one until he reached the first floor (systematically checking each room), the second (still finding nothing out of the ordinary), and then on to the attic. Unlike the doors to the rooms on the other floors, this one was closed. He waited, listening intently on the outside of the door for any noise that confirmed the occupant was the one he sought.

The occasional rumbling growl identified the inhabitant as Lupin. Pressing his ear closer, Severus determined that the werewolf seemed somewhat content, relaxed and apparently under the control of Lupin's mind due to the absence of violent sounds of the beast attempting to escape the confines of the room. Although, Severus was acutely aware this was merely his own assumption; for what did he know of the thoughts and motivations of werewolves?

Confident that the house was otherwise empty, he called out to the man in beast form.

"Lupin! It is I… Snape."

There was deathly silence for a few moments, then a desperate scrambling as the werewolf moved across the room and banged into the door with a snarl.

Severus leaped back from the wooden fixture, drawing a sharp breath in alarm, his wand held aloft defensively.

"Steady!" he called out a little breathlessly.

Silence again.

"They are coming for you… your only chance of escape is now… with me."

A whine from the other side of the door made Severus' heart thud faster, Lupin was responding to him.

"You must come now."

A small, oddly non-threatening howl broke from the room.

Severus took in a calming breath, "Can you confirm you have taken the Wolfsbane?" he asked, "Three taps if yes." A werewolf whilst transformed was merely an animal, with no ability to communicate with humans unless trained, such as a dog, and certainly did not have the knowledge to count… unless, under the influence of the Wolfsbane, he had access to the human mind of his usual form.

More silence, moments strung out to feel like hours… then…

Three distinct scrapes on the relatively thin wooden door between the Wizard and the Werewolf.

Severus expired the breath he did not realise he had held in, nodding comfortingly to himself. He lifted his wand and aimed it at the door, unlocking the single physical barricade that kept the beast from his immediate presence. Another flick of his wand and this door swung open to reveal the animal.

The werewolf rushed to the doorway. Severus instinctively threw a stinging hex at the creature which halted its approach instantly.

"Stop!" Severus demanded, discovering his hands trembling uncontrollably once more. He backed away from the doorway to the stairs. "Keep your distance. Follow, but only at a distance," he insisted, quite breathless with anxiety.

Keeping his eyes on the werewolf, Severus made his way quickly, yet careful that he would not stumble, down the stairs to the ground floor, ensuring the beast did not come so close as for Severus to deem too threatening.

After making his way along the narrow hallway, he reached behind him for the door nob, twisted it, and pulled the door wide open, securing it against the wall to allow the creature to follow him through it. The moonlight glowed in a bright beam as it were cast onto the wooden floor through the now open door, sending a tiny shiver over Severus' entire body. A deep calming breath helped him dismiss his final shred of doubt about removing Lupin from the safety of the house bound by the Fidelus Charm and exposing him to the mercies (or lack there of) of the waiting Death Eaters, concealed and ready to pounce outside.

With a final gesture of his hand, he beckoned the creature forward as Severus backed down the final set of steps, emerging from the cover of the Charm.

The werewolf hesitated on the top step, nervously sniffing the air for… something. He obviously did not detect anything out of place, and commenced his decent of the stairs after Severus.

A good several feet from the steps and Severus knew both he and the beast were now within sight of the hidden Death Eaters, but he needed to lure the werewolf further into the street another twenty or thirty feet before Lucius would signal their unified attack in order to prevent the beast being able to retreat back into the protected dwelling and out of reach of all but Severus.

Suddenly Severus caught a tiny blur of movement out of the corner of his eye to his right. His attention was diverted from the monster he was guiding for the briefest moment when he heard the source of the movement make a barely audible, but distinctly frantic screech.

Instantly the werewolf growled ferociously at the same time as he violently lunged at Severus, who was entirely vulnerable standing alone in the open only a few short feet away.

Instinctively, Severus shot a succession of curses and defensive spells at the creature, with little to no effect, and soon the beast was upon him, clawing viciously at his exposed hands, neck and face. Tearing the fabric covering his arms as he held them up, desperately and valiantly attempting to obstruct the monster's ability to sink its teeth into his flesh. He had yelled out in fear and panic when the animal had pounced, and now he heard the yelling and scrambling of his cohorts as they emerged from their hiding places and ran toward him to assist, but they were still too far away to give Severus the immediate backup he desperately needed.

The animal's hot putrid breath engulfed him, as he crumpled to the ground beneath the weight of the brute. The beast was easily overpowering Severus, the creature's strength thrice that of a mere man! Severus' wand was now lost, dragged from his grasp by a violent swipe of the werewolf's paw directed at the wizard's head which Severus had instinctively deflected with his arm, rendering the dark wizard hopelessly at the creature's mercy.

Another frightening snarl from the beast, its snapping jaws poised above his throat, and Severus felt sure through his terror that his life would be extinguished only moments from now, and he silently pleaded that it be swift and (unrealistically) blessedly pain free. However his anguish stole that moment from him, when the fresh face of a newly birthed infant evolved within his mind, and staring deep into the yellow eyes that he knew comprehended as Remus Lupin did, he screamed pleadingly, "NO!"

Somewhere behind him, Severus could hear that the Death Eaters had finally arrived within range to attack. At the same time, Severus saw a large fat rat scuttle over his arm that was pinned by the brute's limb, and dared to nip the enormous beast on the foreleg before scampering away. The werewolf yanked its head up with a small whine and snarled at the approaching Wizards. Lowering its head to Severus once more, the beast gave one final terrifying snarl, and leapt off and away from the trapped, injured Wizard and stole down the street into the night, chased by the Death Eater's belated flashes of red, orange and purple.

Shocked and shaking violently, Severus was unable to move for several moments. His head turned to the side, he could smell and taste the metallic quality of blood in his mouth as it ran from the gaping wounds of his cheek and forehead and over his parted lips that were gasping for breath from both exertion and fear. He closed his eyes, unable, and quite frankly unwilling, to focus on the commotion that was now taking place around his prone figure. He only barely delighted in the fresh air swirling around his stinging face that replaced the rancid breath that a few moments ago had threatened to become the last to fill his lungs.

"Were you bitten?" came Lucius Malfoy's harsh, sneering question from right next to him, with a firm nudge in his side from a shoe. Severus did not respond, it was, at this moment, beyond him. Pain was beginning to lance throughout his body, both from the liberal cuts and scratches from the werewolf's attack and the burn of lactic acid through his spent muscles as a result of his desperate attempts to prevent a condemning or fatal bite.

"I don't see any bite wounds," Bellatrix offered, almost sounding disappointed. Her hands were cool upon his burning skin as she examined him, but he flinched from her touch as if she had torn at his flesh herself.

Severus forced his eyes to open, his mind firing frantically at him the fact that he was no safer with these people that he was with the werewolf! He swiped her hands away from him, and sheer will forced him to roll over onto his side and attempt to scramble to his feet.

"I am not bitten!" he spat, as he swayed in his attempt to stand and fell again to his knees on the rough bitumen road. A groan escaped him, and he bit his lip to prevent a second from following it. His shaking limbs were failing to hold his weight and he needed a few moments to recover, but at the same time, was desperate to escape all scrutiny just now. Three sets of feet stood in front of him, and suddenly he looked up to search for the body of a fourth who should have stood alongside them.

'Where is Wormtail?' his mind screamed at itself. 'The rat… it was him!' But when Severus glanced around, the wizard he searched for _was_ there, standing a little way off, looking pale and wary, yet most definitely present. In his fiercely shaken condition, Severus was unable to make the pieces of this puzzle fit.

Rodolphus followed Severus' gaze to the small watery-eyed wizard. "Filthy little coward! He hesitated before coming to help… we'd have got him if it weren't for your falter, Pettigrew!" he accused, and Wormtail blanched horribly.

Severus couldn't even sneer, but filed the information away in the back of his mind for later scrutiny.

The dark man tried again to rise from the surface of the road, and this time, despite his fierce tremor, he was successful. Blood dripped from his wounds and they stung with every breath he took, but he frantically scanned the ground for his fallen wand and when he had located it, he stooped unsteadily to grasp it. He then quickly straightened himself and with a sweeping glance at the others, he announced brusquely, "Everyone get out of here… I shall get word to each of you tomorrow." He promptly turned on the spot with a swish of his torn and bloodied robes and Disapparated.

He re-appeared across the road from Seventy-seven Cauldron Lane and again collapsed to his knees, his wand still clutched tightly in his hand. Leaning forward on all fours he abruptly expelled the contents of his stomach onto the ground, coughing and gasping with the effort. He still shook with an intensity that was impossible to quell, and concentrating on his every laboured breath was almost more than he could handle right now. He inched back, away from the puddle of mess in front him, and then curled into a ball, resting his forehead on the ground between his bunched fists. He stayed like this for over a minute, huffing into the dirt, while he worked on gathering back his composure… it was difficult, what with the disturbing images and sensations flashing relentlessly at him within his mind.

Eventually pushing to his feet once more, he finally filed away the wand within his robes and staggered across the road without caution to Phoebe's front door. He knocked hard, ignoring the fire shooting through his hand at the antagonism of some of his wounds.

It was not late, so Erlin answered the door quite promptly.

"Master," the house-elf announced.

"Move aside," Severus demanded harshly and he stumbled through the door to a face a frightened looking Phoebe. The house-elf left the room for the kitchen almost unnoticed.

"Severus! Oh my God!"

He put his hand up to placate her, "I am alright," he said, but the woman ignored his assertion and quickly moved toward him to help him to the couch.

"You're shaking… so hard," Phoebe remarked, "my God, Severus, what happened?" She bent down to examine him closer.

"Not now!" he insisted curtly, "please…" he added, a touch of desperation lacing his voice, and he buried his face within his hands when he hunched forward, leaning his elbows on his knees, barely holding himself together.

After a short pause, "Alright, but when you're ready, I'll be here to listen, okay?"

She placed a tender hand over his arm as a gesture of support. "Let me get you cleaned up a bit." She straightened herself and purposefully strode in the direction of the hallway, to acquire a washcloth with which to accomplish the task, Severus presumed.

Severus had sought her company, but strangely felt a huge relief when she had left him alone for those few moments. He was unusually vulnerable and her close scrutiny only served to make him feel even more so.

Whilst he waited for Phoebe to return, he found he was able to relax a small amount. Enough for him to drag the image of the rat to the forefront of his mind. It was Wormtail, there was no doubt now. Severus had seen the Weasley boy's ex-pet, Pettigrew's animagus form, enough times in their early years at Hogwarts to recognise the rodent.

'Wormtail had warned Lupin!' As he examined this revelation, Severus ran his hands through his hair, flinching slightly as he accidentally brushed over a particularly nasty scratch that started at his temple and disappeared into his hairline. He felt blood begin to trickle afresh from the wound.

"Damn!" he whispered, and examined his shaking hands. They were covered in grime and blood, 'No wonder Phoebe had a look of horror on her face when I came in,' he thought grimly. His stomach was still roiling, but it was lessening with every minute that passed, as was his trembling, albeit slowly, so he considered telling Phoebe not to bother with the washcloth, that he would wash himself under the shower instead. He felt the water would help to soothe him as well.

At that moment, Severus heard a terrified scream emit from the end of the hallway. Phoebe's voice rang out, filled with a horror and fear such as he had never heard outside his Death Eater duties. He reflexively jumped up and immediately ran full pelt down to the end of the hall, where Phoebe was now crying and screaming his name in desperation!


	37. Chapter 37  Fears

Find out what frightened Pheobe so completely...

**Chapter 37**_ - __Fears_

At the end of the hall, Severus saw Phoebe crouched in the corner, cowering away from the hall cupboard, but the cupboard door remained ajar and he was unable to identify the threat as it blocked his view.

Withdrawing his wand instinctively, Severus charged to her aid, his heart thumping wildly and his eyes wide in alarm.

Rounding the corner of the opened cupboard door, Severus frantically searched for the menace that frightened Phoebe so completely. The woman remained cowered in the corner, unable to move in her state of terror.

What he saw when his eyes identified the threat made his blood run cold. A small, distinctly shaped, wooden box embellished with a simple crucifix on the lid which had dislodged a small fraction as it collided with the floor when if fell from inside the cupboard as Phoebe had opened the door. A coffin. An infant-sized coffin… open a fraction.

Severus hesitated only a moment. He knew he wasn't at his best to deal with this crisis just now - but, as usual, he was left with no choice. He threw himself in front of Phoebe, facing the cupboard… the coffin… the Boggart!

The shape shifter began to morph immediately into its new form. Severus braced himself for the rush of emotion and terror that he would surely feel. Especially now… especially after what he had just endured…

The Boggart settled itself into its new shape. Large, menacing and far too close for Severus to feel at all calm and rational. His wand felt all but useless grasped tightly and held aloft in front of himself. _Werewolves_ were notoriously sturdy and resilient creatures, he knew he had no chance against one on his own. He _knew_ this from very recent experience…

Instinctively he shot a stinging hex at the beast as it made a small movement toward him and Phoebe. This merely angered the creature and it snarled ferociously in response, then lifted its head to make a loud and chilling howl. Severus stumbled back a step, gasping his terror. He instantly felt the solid form of Phoebe behind him - he had backed into her crouching figure. Frantically, without taking his eyes off the beast in front of him, he reached down with his free hand to pull her by her arm to her feet, sheltering her the whole time from the threatening animal.

As Phoebe spied the Werewolf, she shrieked aloud again, swearing loudly. "W-what the fuck is that!?"

"W-werewolf," Severus stammered in answer. "Go!" he demanded at a whisper, shoving Phoebe to his left, down the hallway. She resisted, wanting to stay behind him, but he insisted with a forceful prod, "GO!"

Phoebe made a dash from behind Severus for the sitting room.

"No… slowly!" Severus yelled, but too late. The Werewolf caught the movement and lunged at the retreating woman. Severus shot a tripping jinx at the animal, and when the creature sprawled to the floor, he again stepped in between Phoebe and the Werewolf. He sent another stinging hex, then remembering the beast was really a Boggart, he followed it up with, "Riddikulus!"

Nothing happened. The Werewolf remained directly in front of Severus, rising to its feet, menacing and dangerous.

Severus began to retreat, stepping backwards down the hall. "Riddikulus. RIDDIKULUS!" But to no avail. The dark man was incapable of producing the necessary emotions and determination at present to vanquish the creature. He hastened his retreat, but the monster advanced on him quickly, swiping at him savagely and knocking him into the wall where he stumbled backwards and fell heavily to the floor. Phoebe yelled out in horror, again gaining the beast's menacing attention. It growled ferociously and stalked toward her.

Severus had managed to keep a hold of his wand and immediately bellowed, "Sectumsempra!" directing the wand straight at the beast, ensuring the creature's eyes and focus remained on himself.

The curse left a large bleeding welt across the Werewolf's chest and muzzle, halting its advance immediately. It yelped and whined briefly, but then snarled viciously once more at Severus, lunging at the dark man before he could raise his wand to defend himself, pinning him to the floor for the second time that night. He tried to shove the Werewolf off, but the beast was superior in strength and position, and those teeth were snapping at anything that came anywhere near them.

Phoebe shrieked in terror, yelling out, "Severus… no!" and began to scramble toward him to help. But the monster was leaning forward to inflict his first bite! Severus felt the hot breath close to his neck and he struggled pointlessly against the brute strength of the beast. Fear overwhelmed him and he screamed out in horror.

A loud _pop_ and Erlin suddenly appeared in front of Phoebe, "BACK, Mistress!" he bellowed. She leapt backwards in surprise.

Instantly the Werewolf was repelled from on top of Severus. Erlin's outstretched elf hands giving no doubt as to who wielded the power this night. The beast tumbled over and over until it crashed into the far wall of the hallway. Another exaggerated movement of the House-elf's arms and the creature vaporised with a resounding _crack_!

Erlin pattered forward to examine the hall cupboard, and apparently upon feeling satisfied that it was free of vermin, he shut the doors firmly.

"The threat has passed, Master, Mistress."

Phoebe scrambled again to Severus' side, "Severus! Are you alright?"

Severus, his whole body trembling, rolled onto his side, his back to Phoebe. He could barely catch his breath because of his fear, and was struggling to get a grip on himself. "Leave me," he hissed out. But she did not leave, instead he felt Phoebe's hand on his shoulder rubbing comforting circles. He found he did not mind the contact, it was _grounding_ for him, giving him a place to strive to arrive at mentally, emotionally… and physically.

Severus heard Phoebe direct the House-elf to do something, and soon felt a blanket being gently laid over his body.

"I think you might be in shock, Severus. Try to relax. Breathe with me." Severus could hear Phoebe begin to take slow deliberate, audible breaths which she encouraged him to copy. She had lowered her face to his and whispered small comforts in his ear whilst stroking his hair gently with her other hand.

Severus closed his eyes and listened to her soothing voice, following her lead with his own breaths. His stomach lurched suddenly and the severe stinging of his wounds, the original and the most recent, instantly became a startlingly vivid sensation. He gasped.

"Shh, I'm here," crooned Phoebe, "breathe darling."

After several more deep breaths, he was able to open his eyes. "I am okay," he insisted to her at a whisper.

"I know… I know," Phoebe assured him, but she continued to coddle him regardless.

Severus' trembling had changed vaguely to a shiver now instead. He felt cold and nauseous. "I think I am going to be sick," he said, taking in a few deep breaths of resistance, trying to push himself up to a sitting position, the blanket slipping to the floor.

Phoebe helped him up a little. "Easy… go slow," she insisted, pulling the fallen blanket back over his shoulders. "Erlin, can you get a bucket of some kind, please." The house-elf obliged and having lost his battle with the nausea, Severus was soon leaning over a shallow bucket retching what remained of the contents of his stomach into the bowl, while Phoebe tried to hold his long, dark hair back from his face.

Blood ran from his newest wound just above the corner of his eye and trickled down his face, dripping onto the floor with a soft pattering sound. He watched the puddle become larger and larger and suddenly wished he were receiving the attentions of Madam Pomfrey along with Phoebe. He didn't think he had the strength to attend to his wounds himself the way he felt just now.

Finished with the bucket, he shoved it away from himself, and Erlin immediately vanished it. He still clutched his wand in his right hand, but now feeling satisfied that the threat had indeed passed, he shakily replaced it back within his robes and leaned lightly onto Phoebe who was kneeling just to the side and behind him. Her solid presence was comforting.

"I've got you," she assured, enveloping him within her arms. "Are you feeling any better?"

He nodded, "Quite a bit actually," he responded, clinging to her arm. He huffed a sigh and closed his eyes momentarily, blowing out a slow calming breath.

A few moments silence was broken when Phoebe said, "How did that Werewolf get in here, Severus?"

"It was not a true Werewolf," he corrected, "it was a Boggart."

"A Boggart? Huh?"

"Remember the spells you were practicing? Remember the counter charm - Riddikulus, to repel a Boggart?"

He felt her nod against the side of his head, "I remember. So what is it… a Boggart, I mean?"

"A shape-shifter. A creature that can take the shape of whatever a particular person fears the most." Severus was acutely aware that he had just quoted the textbook in the same way that he had admonished the annoying Hermione Granger for doing when he had substituted in the Defence Against the Dark Arts position a few years ago. But he could not really find the urge to care much just now. The description was simple and to the point. He was not in the mood for lengthy conversation. "They seem to like living in dark confined spaces - like cupboards," he added.

"Oh." A long pause. "So… I have a fear of coffins…?" she said lamely.

He liked his lips a little. "A fear of your children… dying," he explained for her, though he sensed that the explanation was not really necessary. Her reaction to the tiny coffin was evidence enough of her understanding of the symbol.

"Right," she simply remarked with a small sigh.

More silence.

"And… werewolves are your fear?"

Severus nodded, but declined from elaborating further. The images in his head were vivid enough without talking about it.

"Well, at least your fear is justified," she said, "coffins can't bite, after all."

Severus sat upright. "You will get my blood all over you. I should get cleaned up," he said, preferring not to get involved in a deep discussion about the merits of the interpretation of an individual's fear by a Boggart, just now.

Using the wall as leverage, he slowly pushed to his feet. Phoebe did the same next to him, possibly with the same amount of difficulty because of her advanced state of pregnancy. He offered her his hand as soon as he noticed her struggle.

"Thankyou," she said graciously, "but I think you are in more need of assistance right now, Severus. You've been torn to shreds… you should just see yourself."

"Do not fuss, I will be alright. These are mostly just superficial wounds… scratches and the like. Nothing serious." He leaned against the wall to ensure he wouldn't undermine that statement by swaying or stumbling.

"How did you get these first injuries? What happened before you got here?" she asked, staying close to his side. Severus sensed that she appeared not to have been fooled by his aloof description of his injuries.

Severus swallowed, looking down at her face, "Werewolf, would you believe? A real one that time."

"A real Werewolf?" she said, incredulous. "Oh, my God!" A pause, and then, "Coward indeed!" Phoebe remarked, astonished. "Harry was completely wrong… I have seen first hand now… that you are far from a coward." She gazed at him with such passionate admiration that he nearly lost his breath all over again.

Suddenly the expression on her face changed to one of alarm, "It's not true, is it… that you can turn into a Werewolf by being bitten? I mean… were you bitten?" she asked frantically, suddenly very interested in each of his wounds.

He held his hands up in a placating gesture, "Yes, it is true… but no, I was not bitten. I am fine. I just need to get cleaned up. I think I would like to be able to soak in a bath. Have Erlin transfigure the shower into a tub, will you?"

Although the order was not given directly to the house-elf, Erlin, who had been nearby the whole time, answered immediately. "Yes, Master, consider it done. I will draw it for you, Master." The house-elf left the hallway directly into the bathroom.

"Thankyou, Erlin," he said gratefully. It was the least Severus could do, offer his appreciation to the house-elf. This was the second time the creature had saved his life, he acknowledged.

Leaning his head back against the wall, Severus groaned slightly, placing his hand on the smooth solid surface also to stabilise himself. He felt exceptionally exhausted and his whole body was now stinging with pain and fatigue. Phoebe moved closer to him and lay her own hands upon his hips in a manner of both support and reassurance.

"I am alright, Phoebe," he insisted. She merely nodded, but her eyes were full of worry.

The house-elf returned to the hallway. "Your bath water is prepared, Master."

"Thankyou, Erlin," Severus repeated, then made to enter the bathroom. Phoebe went to assist him, but he gently pushed her away a little.

"I can manage by myself… please. Just give me some time," he requested.

"Okay, but I'll be checking on you every few minutes, alright. The last thing I need is for you to drown in the bath because I wasn't taking care of you," she insisted, reluctantly letting him enter the room alone.

He snorted in amusement at the suggestion of him drowning in the bath, but her expression was determined. "Right, every few minutes… fair call," he agreed, then he shut the door, withdrew his wand and locked it silently with his wand, so she could not intrude, no matter how determined. He continued to chuckle a little as he removed his torn and bloodied clothing, and when he had stripped bare, he gingerly sank into the deep, warm water of the bath, hissing and grimacing as each of his cuts and scratches were submerged beneath the surface, his short burst of cheer rapidly diminishing to nothing.

At first Severus diligently washed off the grime and blood that stained his skin between his liberal wounds. The water was soon a muddy colour, so he reached for his wand and refreshed the tub with clean, warm water. Then he squeezed fresh water over the wounds themselves, gritting his teeth as he did so. They stung with vivid intensity and he groaned aloud, unable to hold it in. His trembling began anew, brought on by the fresh waves of pain pulsing throughout his body. Not that the pain rivalled anything close to his encounter with Mad-Eye Moody's legacy, '_Replicatum_', but mainly just that he was so emotionally and mentally battered that he could not summon the strength to remain stoical during his suffering… especially as there was no-one to witness anyway.

The knock at the door grabbed his attention and he flicked his head toward the entrance. The door nob twisted but remained locked, and Phoebe then sang out to Severus as she knocked. "You ratbag, you locked it!"

"I am fine, Phoebe," he insisted, and went back to cleaning his wounds, hissing and trembling without fear of the woman intruding.

He lay back, deep into the bath water, tilting his head back and submerging his hair and swishing an amount of water over his face. The stinging increased and he gasped aloud. It was too much to take in one day. He was merely one man… a man… a living breathing, feeling man… pushed so far past his limit today. Fear, the one emotion Severus thought he had mastered to its entirety. But he could not have expected to have confronted this emotion so closely, not once, but twice within a mere hour or so on this day, which brought him so close to death, both times.

Severus was not afraid of death… in fact, there had been a time in his life that he had wished for its comforting arms to surround him, to take him from his pain. But not like that… not with such fear engulfing him… feeling so out of control of his destiny and the acceptance of his role in the world's fate…

But most importantly, he had learned today that he was just not ready for death, not now that he finally had something to look forward to. His destiny was, for the first time in his life, a true mystery to him, and at this moment Severus wished beyond anything that he was free of all obligation to explore his future possibilities without a looming and probable doom over shadowing it. The thought stole his breath from him and he began to sob uncontrollably. He closed his eyes and surrendered to his misery as it washed over his entire body.

He did not hear when Phoebe knocked for the second time, and therefore did not assure the woman of his continued safety. He did not notice when Phoebe frantically called out to him, and when he again did not respond, demanded that Erlin magically open the door for her. And he did not know that she had rushed to his side to help and support him until she reached her arms into the water and around his shoulders and pulled him to her, not caring that the bath water sloshed everywhere. He in turn clutched her close to him desperately. He needed her… his rock, his everything, his… love.

**_Please review - it means the world to me!_**


	38. Chapter 38  Wrath

Severus is a whirl of emotions and sometimes the wrong person ends up copping the brunt of his torment...

Thanks so much to all the regular reader/reviewers... your appreciation gives wings to my tale!

**Chapter 38**_ - __Wrath_

An hour later, Severus sat upon the couch, now clean, warm and examining his wounds with great interest. They appeared, despite cleaning each of them in the bath, to have become reddened around the edges. Each tear of his skin throbbed and burned a little with each beat of his pulse.

"I feel these are becoming infected, Phoebe," he remarked with some concern.

Phoebe placed the back of her hand to his forehead. After a moment she nodded in agreement, "You do feel a little warm. Can you heal them?"

He shook his head, "It is not advisable to heal them without first treating the infection."

"Well that's true in my way of doing things too… the Muggle way," Phoebe affirmed. "Can you do that with magic? Treat the infection?"

"It is an incantation I am not familiar with. I shall need to visit a Medi-witch."

"Well, maybe I can clean them properly with antiseptic, if there is anything here that will do the job, that is. And you'll certainly need to bandage some of them," she said, sitting next to him and examining the worst cuts for herself. "These are really quite deep, Severus, and they should be covered to help keep them clean."

"As much as I appreciate your offer, I must decline. They will know I have sought help from Muggles. I must not risk their suspicion… you understand?"

Phoebe grumbled something incoherent and frowned, though she did not argue with him.

"In fact, I should leave now… the others will be curious as to where I went, no doubt," he continued. "And I can seek Bellatrix's ministrations."

"Bellatrix? Who is she?" Phoebe queried.

"Narcissa's sister… yes, she is a Death Eater," he added at Phoebe's raised eyebrow, "but she is also a trained Medi-witch. She can help… in fact it was she who healed my shoulder." At Phoebe's continued look of doubt, he again added, "Bellatrix knows her craft… she is good at what she does, she knows what she is doing."

"That may well be… but do you, Severus?" Phoebe asked pointedly.

"Of course I do!" Severus bit back. "I have assured you time and time again that I am in control.

"In control? You've got to be kidding me, Severus. It _was_ you, the last time I saw you, that told me you weren't sure whether or not you were returning to an ambush, wasn't it? I mean, please… correct me if I'm wrong…"

Severus remained silent for a few moments, Phoebe was correct after all. "Pettigrew did not see. He was not at the house," he finally answered, using his response as justification.

"That's irrelevant, and you bloody well know it!" Phoebe almost shouted at him, rising a little ungracefully, but quite angrily, to her feet.

She was upset, probably with him… with everything, he supposed. Mostly he turned up on her doorstep half dead… how could he really blame her. But he couldn't let her get carried away with these feelings.

"That is enough!" he snapped harshly, immediately leaping to his own feet and looming over her. "I do what I _have_ to do!"

"You don't have to do _this_! Severus… you don't have to go back." Her tone then turned pleading, "Don't go back…"

It made him angry, so angry to hear her beg for him to stay. It was far too late for that… such choices were way behind him. "What are you saying… you cannot be serious! First you practically insist that I jump headlong into this with pride… and now, when I have no choice, you beg that I abandon my duty?" He was shaking again, but this time with repressed frustration and fury.

She held her ground at his, no doubt palpable, fury, but he could sense that it was only barely. "I didn't know then, Severus… I had no idea what you would have to be involved with," Phoebe offered, unaware that her excuse would not pacify him, but only further enrage him.

"You had no idea! Yet you pushed me toward it nevertheless!" He took a small intimidating step toward her. "You used my guilt and regret against me. My… affection for the Headmaster… you attempted to manipulate me!" Severus could feel his self control slipping from his grasp as bitterness overtook his emotions. "I am thoroughly sick of being used… tired of being controlled by others." He suddenly reached out and grabbed a rough hold on Phoebe's arm, almost in a symbolic effort to keep a hold of reality as his mind spun in a confusing whirl of mixed emotions. She tried to back out of his reach, but he was far superior in speed and strength.

"Severus!?" she yelped in fear, but he did not register her terror.

He burned his gaze into hers, desperate to have her understand that he needed her to be nothing but a safe place for him to fall for the time being. "I cannot let you control me. I HAVE to go back," he began to shake her, to force her to submit to him and his will, "you have robbed me of my choices… more than once… and then denied me my dignity when I needed it the most!" As the words left his mouth, he knew that he had gone overboard, he'd accused her of things that she was most certainly _not_ guilty of and he'd even managed to allow a stinging remark about his _choice_ to become a father, to accompany it. Truth be told, she had probably allowed him too many choices… but the damage was done.

Phoebe swung around her free hand and slapped his face. It stung more because of the numerous cuts that covered his features, and this fuelled his indignation.

She had withdrawn her hand and covered her mouth as if in regret of her action, and shook her head gently, denying… something.

'Well, here is something for her to certainly regret,' he thought savagely, and with a soft growl, lunging even closer to her and grabbing both her shoulders in a painful grasp, his fingernails digging unmercifully into her arms. "NEVER… ever… hit me!" he hissed menacingly.

"Severus don't…let me go!" she cried, but Severus did not ease the pressure of his hold on her, his anger clouding his judgement and bitterness feeding his confused thoughts and emotions that caused him to only remember the injustice done to his Mother, by his Muggle Father.

"Erlin," Phoebe whispered out in a frightened tone.

Severus was stunned. The angry expression sliding from his face to be replaced by one of shock and shame, but before he could act, Erlin had appeared in the room and had magically repelled him from Phoebe as humiliatingly as the house-elf had done to the Boggart. Severus slammed into the far wall of the sitting room and crumpled to a heap on the floor.

His thoughts were sharp and cruel. 'She called for _Erlin_ to protect her! _My_ Phoebe… called the house-elf to save her… from me.' He looked up to see the house-elf standing in front of Phoebe, remaining as guardian to the woman, shielding her from the dangerous man that sat battered and shaking against the wall. And by rights too. He had promised he would never harm her… pledged to protect her always, like he had sworn to the Headmaster to help protect Harry Potter. 'It is not surprising, though… I failed there too.' Memories of the night he had struck the teenager swam through the forefront of his mind. A magical creature had interjected to protect the boy that night too. Severus _was_ a dangerous man… loitering on the very edge of sanity and balancing on the precipice of death. He had no business tainting the life of someone innocent of the darkness that continuously smothered his soul… and his light. Perhaps he _was_ no better than his worthless father afterall!

He pushed himself to his feet and after a few deep breaths, he sought Phoebe's eyes. When he found them, he tried to send a message of regret and apology, but he was unsure if he was successful, then he turned, collected his cloak and exited the cottage, without another word.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

As the man exited through the door, Phoebe called out to try to stop him. She could not have him leave like this.

"Severus! Don't go… please. Severus." But it was too late, he was gone, and Erlin would not let Phoebe past him to go after the man.

She began to sob, sinking to the couch in misery. She felt so bad that she had hit him. She hadn't meant to, it had been mostly reflex. And she had understood where his intense reaction had come from, knowing his parent's history, but the circumstances had resembled the incident in the alley in London so closely and he had frightened her so much that she had instinctively called for help from the only other person she knew was there. Oh, how that must have hurt and humiliated Severus!

Erlin offered her a handkerchief, which she took gratefully, giving in further to the tears that were starting to overwhelm her.

Phoebe was terrified that the man had left for good. She had noticed his expression of regret just before he left, but she wasn't sure of its complete meaning. Was he regretful about their argument… or was it more than that… was he regretful of the entire relationship in the first place. He had all but said as much. But he wouldn't leave her, would he? He wouldn't just abandon her here, in the middle of… God knows where?

'No… he'll be back,' she tried to assure herself, 'he will. I will wait for him.' But she could not quite convince herself in her misery… she just didn't know what he had been thinking.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Severus felt a little ill again after he Apparated from Cauldron Lane. He wanted very much to curl into a ball and sleep a great many hours, but he realised that prospect was unlikely as he made the steps, over the thin layer of dirty snow, closer and closer to his house on Spinner's End.

Admitting himself through the front door, he called out to his house-mate. "Wormtail… are you here?"

"I am," came the response from the darkened corner of the room where Severus kept his stocks of Firewhisky and Elf-made wine. The small, watery eyed man was indulging himself in a rather large glass, it seemed.

"You have not been… _home_ long?" Severus queried, loath to describe Wormtail's current use of his house as 'home', yet unable to find a suitable alternative in time.

Surprised, Wormtail stammered, "H-how could yo-?"

"Presumably you would have demolished half the liquor by now, judging by your glass… and I can see the stocks have barely been touched," Severus interceded, knowing he'd spooked the short man more than enough for the need to continue to taunt him. The dark man had been rolling his wand within his fingers since entering, and only now filed it away within his robes.

"Well, it's been a harrowing evening. Shall I pour you one?"

Severus held his hand up in refusal, "No… I doubt I could stomach anything as hard as liquor, just now."

Wormtail shrugged his indifference and continued to take large gulps of his own beverage. "I told them that… that you were hardly in the mood to be ogled."

"I beg your pardon?" Severus asked, unnecessarily civilised in his query.

Wormtail pulled his glass away from his lips. "Well, you were a little green around the gills when you left. I take it you chucked your guts up?"

Highly humiliated, Severus began to feel his face flush. He'd hoped his… _status_ hadn't been quite so blatantly obvious. "Yes," he admitted, biting on the inside of his cheek quite firmly. But it _was _a useful alibi, he resolved.

"By 'they', I take you to mean Malfoy and the Lestranges, do you not?"

Wormtail nodded, "Bellatrix especially was suspicious of where you had run off to. I mean, you left without ensuring we had no witnesses to that… fiasco," he said, rolling his beady eyes.

Severus snorted disdainfully at the comment. "I take it the rest of you were able to sort any - difficulties - without my presence?"

Pettigrew nodded again. He then downed the contents of his glass in one swig and proceeded to refill it.

'He is nervous,' Severus thought to himself, 'yet strangely relieved at the same time. And he is waiting to see if I comment on _the rat_. He must know there is a probability that I saw him.' Severus needed time to sort out the best way to handle this development. Pettigrew betraying the Dark Lord's wishes… who would have thought he'd have the courage? Severus knew he had to tread very carefully. Wormtail's loyalty to the Dark Lord was not necessarily in question… only why he went against it to interfere with Lupin's capture. Some remnant guilt about his betrayal of James and Lily perhaps… or was it a specific bond of some sort with Lupin himself?

But he did not have further time to ponder this possible connection to their target. At that moment the dark mark on his forearm burned so severely that he yelped and clutched at it. Wormtail too had reacted to his own mark burning, though not as extreme as Severus. Rolling up his sleeve a little, Severus determined why. A long deep scratch made its meandering way from one end to the other of his mark, intensifying the pain he had felt. Nevertheless, he felt angry with himself for reacting as he had done, there was a time when he did not flinch at all when summoned. Though admittedly, those were much calmer times for Severus, and he certainly had not felt the pressure he did these days.

Alarmed, Severus glared at Wormtail. "Has He been informed?" he asked, yanking his sleeve back down. "Tell me Lucius was not idiotic enough to drop us all in it?!"

A now trembling Wormtail was shaking his head, "N-not that I was aware of. He had no plans of s-such when I l-last saw him." The rat-like man drained the remains of his drink in one mouth-full once again.

"Shit… there is no time to corroborate our stories with the other three. Just… just avoid the topic if at all possible. Severus looked down at himself. His robes were torn and bloodied, and although he was cleaned up a little, there was no doubt that a major incident had occurred. 'Avoid the topic… impossible,' he thought to himself, shaking his own head. 'Fuck!'

He looked up to see Wormtail observing him, "R-right."

Lamnordron was quiet and decidedly eerie when the two Death Eaters Apparated to the boundary. Severus wondered briefly whether Lucius, Bellatrix and Rodolphus were already here or not. Come to think of it, perhaps they had not even been summoned. It was nothing but an assumption that they had been, he realised.

'Only one way to find out,' he thought. He led the way through the ruins with Wormtail trailing behind him like a child dreading an impending punishment. Which absurdly, was most likely what was about to occur.

Severus finetuned his inner defences as he stepped through the doorway to the outer chamber, but he was not able to shake a disturbing sense of vulnerability that plagued his every fibre.

As Severus' gaze swept the room in an assessing manner, he noted that the Dark Lord was absent, but knew the sinister being was within the building somewhere, Apparition after the burn of the dark mark simply did not allow for arrival at an incorrect destination, unless one was deliberately avoiding the meeting, of course. Voldemort could not wield complete control, to _his_ disappointment.

Both men took several more tentative steps into the gloomy room and had almost reached the centre when the bang of the opposite door being thrown open snatched their undivided attention. The intimidating, evil Wizard strut forcefully through the doorway and into the room. After and unpreventable sharp intake of breath, Severus immediately lowered himself to one knee, bowing his head, but not before he noticed the huge snake slither in behind its Master, hissing threateningly at the newcomers, then settling itself into a tight coil in the corner to his left.

"WHY has Remus Lupin NOT been brought to me, quivering at my _FEET_!?" Voldemort practically screamed out in livid anger.

Severus chanced a tiny glance up at his Master's face and saw the most terrifying site. The Dark Lord's face was thunderous with rage and his eyes gleam red and almost seem to spark of their own volition.

Severus dips his head once more. "He remains elusive at this time, My Lord. Though we are close to capturing him, I-"

"I am NOT interested in your excuses, Snape!" At this time, Lord Voldemort moves directly in front of Severus, so close Severus could have lent forward and felt the feared Wizard's robes brush against his forehead. "If I did not know better…"

The Dark Lord paused and Severus' heart leapt in dread.

"… I would suspect one of my faithful to be… working against me!" Voldemort finished with a silky menace to his voice.

The evil Wizard then reached down and grasped Severus by his chin, forcing his face up and the kneeling Wizard's gaze to fall directly into his own. Severus knew he was caught in the intense stare, and that he was in real danger of having his defences crumble under the harsh and insistent scrutiny of the Dark Lord's attack. For all he was worth he concentrated on maintaining the wall protecting his secrets.

But he was already weakened. The mental strains of the evening had certainly taken a toll and he was beginning to feel the barrier develop flaws and gaps. His head throbbed as the Dark Lord pushed and probed through the innocuous memories and emotions that constituted his initial defence, thoroughly raping every detail with forceful efficiency.

Sharp stabbing pain soon accompanied the throbbing as Voldemort breached the second layer of memories, rifling recklessly amongst the images, forcing Severus to replay a number of events of a dubious nature that had the Dark Lord taken the time to study further, he may have seen the evidence of possible deceit.

With a unstoppable gasp, Severus began to sweat and felt uncomfortably light-headed. If he hadn't already been kneeling, he may have collapsed to the floor. As it was, he greatly suspected he was only being held up by the bony hand tightly gripped beneath his chin and the compelling pull of the most powerful Legilimency spell he had ever endured.

Suddenly, the intruding mind brushed over his wall and found a crevice that was instantly forced wide apart. Crying out at the blinding stab of pain, Severus felt the barricade falter and disintegrate, as the Dark Lord's satisfied sigh echoed within his mind.

Panic and fear filled Severus' heart, prompting his mind to bring forth the memories that matched that emotion closest.

_Blindly running through a dark, musty tunnel, a blood curdling howl emitting from extremely close, just out of sight - a rush of alarm. Scrambling out of the mouth of the tunnel, dragged to safety by a dark haired teenager - Relief, yet humiliation and anger. _A new set of memories are dragged forth… _Anxiety - leading a werewolf into the middle of a street - wary, yet determined. Alerted by an indeterminable sound - Terror - the horrifying sound of a menacing growl. Crumbling beneath the weight of a massive beast. Desperation - fighting for his life, and for the help he knew should be only moments away. Apprehension - that it may come too late, the teeth snap threateningly close to his flesh. Horror - that he may be condemned by an infecting bite as fatigue begins to sap his strength. _This next one is different… but only Severus himself would know it… _Panic - the hot breath of a fully grown werewolf on his throat. _They change back again… _The beast leans in closer for the final assault, and he screams out "NO" - Heartache and Loss. Relief - help arrives at last, the beast dashes off into the night, narrowly avoiding capture. Confusion - as he scrambles to his feet and observes his companions, staring at him. Desperation - trying to regather his composure, vomiting uncontrollably instead - Humiliation…_

Severus felt himself fall, he is barely conscious. The whole time he has concentrated so fiercely to only permit memories that would not compromise his position and allow the discovery of his true allegiance. If he could not manage to block them completely, he was still able to selectively feed the Dark Lord what he preferred him to see first, in the hopes that his vicious Master would cease before the alternative images ran dry. And now he was exhausted, fighting merely to remain alert enough to defend himself again, if need be.

His head was pounding and his ears were ringing with the remnants of the visions he had been forced to relive, whist his head swims, coming dangerously close to an ever increasing blackness that threatens to consume him. But for now, at least, he is sure he has done enough to ensure the Dark Lord's suspicion of Severus himself will be dispelled, and his mind clings to the light.

He hears the admonishing words implying failure, and tries to deny the suggestion that the fiasco has been nothing but detrimental to the mission and the Dark Lord's desires. "No, I beg you, My Lord-" But his pleas are cut short by the sudden wielding of the most painful of curses.

"Crucio!" the Dark Lord howls, and Severus begins to shudder, thrash and scream as the pain of white hot knives stab at every inch of his body. He barely finds the effort to draw breath, only to scream himself out again. During his thrashing he gnashes his jaws and teeth together and his eyes flutter as though he were in the throes of a fit. He has lost all sense of himself and in the deepest, darkest corner of his mind, he begs for an end… for peace, for… death.


	39. Chapter 39 Or Die

Terribly sorry for the delay... as some may know, I am pregnant myself and have had difficulty finding the time to write, as I can not stay up late and write as I normally do. Those who have been pregnant can understand that it can be exhausting just existing -- and especially as I also have four other children to take care of. Nevertheless, I have been slowly working on this update for months now... and I hope it is worth the wait for you. Similarly, don't expect another update soon, though I will do my best to get it to you as soon as I am able. So sorry again. BTW - my baby is due in three weeks -- I'll let you all know whether it's blue or pick when it comes. :)

Now - I'm sure you've all been anxiously wondering what has happened to dear Severus and Phoebe -- don't let me hold you back from finding out... read away...

**Chapter 39**_ - Or Die…_

The screaming continued to echo around the room, but Severus now detected a distinct change… the desperate sounds were no longer his own, the screams did not issue from his own mouth. He forced his eyes to open to re-associate himself with his surroundings. He could not hope to defend himself if he were unaware of what was happening around him.

A few feet to his left, Wormtail was thrashing under the torture of the Dark Lord's evil curse, and the large snake had slithered closer to satisfy its curiosity regarding the loud commotion punctuating the usually peaceful air. Disturbingly, the serpent now appeared to be leering hungrily at the contorting victim. Severus briefly speculated how often Nagini had been permitted to satisfy her hunger on those that had dared disappoint the Dark Lord in the past.

Shuddering at the morbid thought, he suddenly felt the need to drag himself into a more defendable position. It was more difficult than he anticipated and he wondered how long he had been forced to bare the wrath of his Master this time, and considered whether he could have actually lost consciousness for any period of time.

Severus pushed to a sitting position and with a rush a million sensations hit him at once. His chest was tight and straining for breath, his throat felt as though it were on fire. He tried to swallow, but found it almost impossible. His tongue was swollen and paining; he now detected the metallic flavour of blood. Instantly he brought a shaking hand to his mouth to wipe the fluid that was dribbling from his chin, surveying the pool of crimson he had collected in his palm. He must have bitten down hard on it during the torture. Severus' head was pounding and every inch of his body ached in unison. Unable to dismiss his distress, Severus drew in a deep shuddering breath and gulped a short but almost silent gasp.

Much more of this torment and it would undo him completely, Severus admitted to himself. He drew another deep breath and blew it out slowly, hoping for some calm to descend upon him soon. But his internal defences were down, torn away by the Dark Lord's insistent probing of his mind. It would take fierce concentration to re-erect them.

Instantly recalling the violent rape of his memories, Severus was amazed that he had managed to prevent any incriminating information from being discovered. Amazed that he was here alive and apparently past the worst of this encounter with Voldemort. But alive he was… and lucky! A _luck_ that would not be wasted if Severus had anything to say about it!

The screaming in the room suddenly ceased and Severus quickly scrambled to his knees, although he swiftly discovered the need to stabilise himself with a hand on the floor in front of him. Recovery would take many hours this time, he sensed.

It was now that he noticed that Bellatrix, Lucius and Rodolphus were standing in the doorway that led to the inner chamber. They each appeared a little pale and worse for wear, but certainly did not look anywhere close to the state in which he himself felt just now.

'Bastards!' he thought viciously, continuing to desperately and laboriously suck air into his exhausted lungs.

"Bella, Gentlemen… it appears that each of your version of events align with young Snape's," Voldemort said, as his cruel red eyes darted to Severus'. "Though I will continue to have my suspicions of a traitor… as surely luck alone would not _dare_ to prevent me from destroying _Harry Potter _once and for all!" the Dark Lord barked to no-one in particular. The Dark Lord then signalled that he wished for Lucius, Bellatrix and Rodolphus to enter the room. All three Death Eaters did so without delay and kneeled appropriately alongside Severus. He paced a few steps along the length of the room, then returned to stand threatening before them all once again.

"I am through being lenient with every last one of you. And I am tired of waiting!" he hissed menacingly, the malice in his voice almost enough to kill on its own.

Beside him to his left, Severus saw that Wormtail was curled in a ball, still shaking violently. The small man had made no attempt to return himself to his knees yet and, in Severus' opinion, was tempting fate in not doing so.

"Now listen, and listen very carefully. I shall no longer tolerate the failure that seems to have plagued the Death Eater ranks of late." The Dark Lord's gaze shifted over each of the kneeling Death Eaters in turn, and finally fixed on the prone figure of Pettigrew, where the look of distaste on the evil wizard's face seemed to intensify.

Returning his attention to the other kneeling wizards, and with a burning gaze, the Dark Lord ordered, "You have one final chance to deliver to me what I have requested. Do not fail… for I assure you, it will be your last act on this earth."

The chill that ran through Severus' body at the Dark Lord's threat was not perceptible to his surrounding comrades, nor the evil dictator himself, though it was very real and terrifying for Severus to feel nonetheless. In this instant, he knew he was out of options and out of time. The Dark Lord had left no doubt that it was _do, or die…_

In a swish of robes Lord Voldemort turned on the spot and swept commandingly through the chamber doorway followed by the enormous snake, which appeared reluctant to leave the possible meal, and the door slammed closed behind them.

The Death Eaters were dismissed.

Severus stole a quick glance at the men and woman at either side, then with a determined and steeling intake of breath, he stood tall, bowed his head briefly in acquiesce toward the door through which the Dark Lord had just departed, and also swept confidently from the room, his black robes swooping like a dark shadow after him.

Not wishing to return to Spinner's End and be under the scrutiny of his fellow Death Eaters, though feeling he had nowhere else to go, Severus found himself leaning against the grimy wall of a dark alley somewhere in the middle of London. His hands would not stop shaking and his knees felt alarmingly weak. It had been a mere half hour since his exposure to the Cruciatus curse and he knew his body's rebellion to the trauma had barely begun to warm up. His shakes would soon become shivers that invaded every cell of his body and alternate bouts of fever and chill would plague him for several hours as his nerve endings recovered from the torture.

The sliver of artificial light piercing the alleyway hurt his eyes so he closed them and sunk to a crouching position. He pulled his cloak tightly around him against the both cold and the intrusion of the world, and hung his head, allowing his dark hair to fall forward and cover his face. He didn't think his mood could sink much lower than it was at the current moment.

But he wouldn't give up… he did not desire death like he had in the past. The dark man had been greatly dented and pushed to his mental limits recently, but the strength that had allowed Severus Snape to persist, despite the disastrous existence he had been dealt since childhood, was inherent in his character. His refusal to accept failure had been fortified by his involvement within the Death Eater faction, and in particular, as a result of the unforgiving nature of their Master. No, Severus Snape would not give up, he would see this through to its end… whatever _end_ that may be.

'How could she ask him to just walk away?' he suddenly thought of Phoebe's appeal. He wouldn't… he _couldn't_! But he had to concede that since his most recent encounter with Voldemort it was undoubtable that his time as a spy in the Death Eater ranks _was_ almost up. It really was only a matter of time before he would be discovered as the traitor, and Severus did rather prefer for that discovery to be made on his own terms and not kneeling vulnerably at the feet of his very dangerous and vicious Master.

'Merlin… Phoebe was right,' he thought. 'It is time to get out! She was right, and I've treated her like a fool!' Severus suddenly bashed his own head back against the brick wall. It doubled his headache immediately, and he began sucking in deep breaths through his nose to distract from the pain, though it was a punishment he felt he had well deserved.

Severus had never been terribly adept at personal relationships. As a teen he had rather disastrously shattered any hope of friendship with Lily Evans (and he _had_ wanted it, desired it, perhaps even secretly wishing for more), and he had not even succeeded as far with any other female in his subsequent twenty years, with the exception, of course, of the occasional illicit tryst during which he had learned how to adequately please a woman sexually.

Belatedly Severus Snape was now learning many lessons about women and relationships, in a relatively short period of time. Difficult, painful lessons… including lessons about such personal behaviours he assumed he'd mastered long ago… tolerance, modesty… and self control.

Severus stifled a derisive snort aimed at himself, though he could not stifle the inner sentiment that accompanied it.

'_One_ could not really have mastered the art of tolerance or modesty if _one_ had no need to practice either of these traits because they had no-one of any significance to be tolerant of, or modest toward, could they?' he thought, somewhat bitterly.

In fact, now that he thought about it, he realised he'd largely led his life being intolerant, immodest and had often displayed an alarming _lack_ of self control when it did not involve his own neck on the proverbial chopping block. Images of Harry Potter eagerly swam to the forefront of Severus' mind to torment him for a moment; he quickly and savagely swept them aside.

'Phoebe deserved better from me,' he again conceded, and Severus found himself wanting to repair the damage he had done, and wishing he had put forth more effort when he had the chance. He had not wanted to destroy what he now regarded as perhaps his last chance at any form of future happiness… if he indeed had a future… yet old habits, it seemed, had proven difficult to break.

Sighing, Severus tilted his head to rest against the wall again, this time far more gently, and threw back his cloak, allowing the cool air to swirl more easily around his face and body. The first of the coming fevers was beginning to creep through his body.

He suddenly heard movement at the entrance to the ally. He looked up to find it was the Muggle police, now shining a torch into the dark passageway directly at him.

"Who goes there?" demanded one of the officers.

Severus ignored the question, but acknowledged to himself that he would have to find somewhere else to recover. They would not allow him to linger there, especially when they'd had a chance to look him over properly and saw what state he was in.

"You're going to have to move on," came the expected order from the second officer, stepping into the alley, removing his baton as he did.

"I am leaving… I'm going," Severus called out, struggling to his feet. He walked stiffly toward the street, past the officers. As he neared them, they observed him closely. Severus could see the second officer's hand clenching nervously around the weapon held defensively in front of him.

"You alright?" asked the first officer, shining the torch directly at Severus' face.

He swallowed, shying away from the bright light that hurt his eyes, placing his hand up to block the beam. "Yes… peachy," he said sardonically.

"You don't look it," the first officer argued, shifting the torchlight down to Severus' chest height. "Perhaps you should find somewhere to sleep it off."

"Perhaps," Severus agreed, aware that the officer had made the incorrect assumption that his sickly appearance was merely the result of him being under the influence of some kind of substance. "May I go?"

After a short pause, the officer nodded. As Severus continued past him, he added, "I suggest somewhere a little more secure. The streets around here can be a very dangerous place at night."

"Really?" Severus scoffed. In truth he knew he was likely in far less danger on these streets than the Muggle officers, though knew better than to engage in this argument with these men, here and now.

"Do you have somewhere to go?" the officer persisted to him as he walked away.

"I do," he answered, "thankyou," he responded somewhat acerbically, continuing on his way. Though in that instant, Severus really had no particular place in mind. The police officers followed him at a distance watching him stagger along the street for over a block. He concentrated on keeping himself upright and just kept walking until they gave up and left him to it. It wasn't until he was several blocks away, his shaky legs threatening to spill him to the pavement, that he thought of Phoebe's vacant house. It wasn't too far away from here, he realised. And after a moments rest to gather sufficient strength, he Apparated himself directly to the sitting room, promptly staggering upon his landing, tripping himself up on the coffee table in the middle of the room and finding himself sprawled awkwardly across the rug in front of the couch.

Laughing harshly at himself, mainly so he wouldn't allow emotions of a different nature to overwhelm him, he agreed that the officers were probably right to assume he were under the influence of some drug or alcohol. He wished he were. He should be, with all he had had to go through recently. He sobered instantly when macabre flashes of the previous several months skipped through his mind. Blood… torture… death… misery… the inescapable probability of failure. But then Severus' intrinsic survival instinct mentally kicked at him. There was still _hope_, wasn't there? The child…? Phoebe? A vague promise of a future… of a life returned to him after years of… _what?_… atonement, amends… penance?

'Perhaps,' he whispered softly to himself. Severus then huffed a small half laugh-half sigh, then pushed himself up from the rug and made his way down the hall to the bedroom. He ripped his cloak from his body and dumped it onto the floor, kicked off his boots, then crawled onto the bed and beneath the covers. Already he could feel his fever receding, but he knew it would soon be replaced by a voracious chill which would be accompanied by shivers that would shake his entire body with such vigour that it felt as though they would never relinquish their grip… before yet another cycle of fever would begin anew.

Sleep. He would try to sleep. The severe after-effects were best endured under the protective arm of sleep for as long as was possible… if he could.

The dark man laid his head on his pillow and covered his face with a second pillow from the far side of the bed.

This very bed in which he lay provided a welcome distraction for Severus' tormented mind. It was Phoebe's bed, and the woman's subtle scent that was still clinging to the linen washed through him as he took a deep calming breath, prompting him to remember the night he had spent with her here all those months ago.

That night, he had discovered later, was the night Phoebe had conceived his child. That night he had unknowingly been dealt extra challenges, yet more importantly, that night _fate_ had granted him a healthy and lifesaving measure of hope that meant more to him now than he could ever have imagined. For that he had to be grateful. For that he _was_ grateful, and acknowledging that now, deep within his soul, Severus cleared his mind with practiced efficiency and drifted off to sleep.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Phoebe lay fitfully sleeping in her own bed. Her pillow was still damp from her tears.

She was dreaming…

She was sitting up in a crisp white bed. Around her bustled various hospital staff, tidying the room and re-arranging the equipment back to their proper place. Through the door to Phoebe's right walked a midwife carrying a tiny bundle wrapped in a white blanket which she held out for Phoebe to take.

The bundle made a tiny mewing noise, like a cat, and squirmed a little against the confines of the wrap.

Phoebe reached out and pulled the bundle close, pulling back the soft material to reveal the infant within. The most beautiful face stared back at her, blinking and screwing up its features, then sucking noisily on its bottom lip which had been drawn into its mouth.

Pulling the baby even closer, Phoebe pressed a soft kiss onto its cheek and forehead. Then looked up and smiled with pride to the man standing at the bedside next to her on her right. He leaned in and gave her a similar peck on the cheek and smoothing his hand over her hair before reaching his arms to take the baby from her. She allowed the man to receive the bundle, and the baby began to fuss softly in his arms.

Her expression changed to one of great sadness. "Look after him," she pleaded to the man emotionally.

"Of course… as I always have with _our _children… always," the man, her husband - Phoebe's first love assured her, then walked away through the door with the baby cuddled close.

Phoebe dissolved into tears and turned to the other man standing closely on the left side of her bed for comfort. Severus obliged by holding her tightly within his arms, whispering softly in her ear, "I am here."

As her grief overcame her, violent sobs shook her entire body and she gave herself completely over to the dark man holding her, supporting her.

"I'm sorry," she choked out…

Phoebe woke suddenly, tears streaming down her face once again and found herself sobbing aloud. In a panic, she reached down to her belly to assure herself that the baby she carried within her was still there… still alive. She held her breath momentarily, but soon felt a small movement deep in her pelvis. She gave a huge audible sigh of relief. She felt sick just now, but a few deep breaths later the nausea melted away as she calmed herself from her panic, though her tears were still flowing.

With a fierce defiance she whispered into the darkness, "No… you can't have this one, Michael… no."


	40. Chapter 40 Absence

Terribly sorry for the long absence once again - in my defence I have five (count them - five) children and the littlest is under six months... please forgive me! :D The good news though is that in the process of writing this chappie, I found I had to chop it in half, so most of the next chappie is already done... :D

Phoebe worries for Severus and regrets that they parted from one another on bad terms... and the mystery of Erlin's absence solved. Read on!

Oh, and as I'm in dire need of a push to get this story on track for faster updates, you all should know that reviews will help this... just thought I'd mention it... ;)

**Chapter 40** – _Absence_

In the early hours of the morning, Phoebe lay huddled beneath the covers of her bed. She did not feel like getting out of bed, still tired from her fitful night's sleep. But she could not manage to get back to sleep. Her thoughts kept wandering between her upsetting dream and wondering where Severus was and just what he was doing at that moment.

'I hope he's alright,' she thought miserably.

Phoebe for some reason had an ominous feeling about the coming days. A foreboding sense continued to send shivers throughout her body as she thought about the fact that Severus had left this time on bad terms. She just couldn't shake the feeling that she would regret that the last conversation they shared with one another had been in anger.

'What if I never see him again?' she questioned herself torturously. 'Oh, God!'

When Severus had left, he had not been in the healthiest condition, torn to shreds by not one, but two werewolf attacks in a short period of time. Phoebe also knew the dark man had suffered more than physically from the attacks. She remembered she had found him sobbing in the bathtub, powerfully affected by his fear. He hadn't discussed it with her, but she knew it was so. Regardless of the fact that he had told her that he had no use for such emotions, in extreme circumstances he apparently was unable to avoid confronting the sensations and instead was being forced to deal with them head on.

Phoebe could tell he thought himself weak for not being able to suppress his reactions, but to her it was merely the natural and normal responses of a traumatised human being. She thought perhaps she might be the only remaining living person who had been allowed to see this very human side of Severus Snape. He did not choose to share it willingly nor habitually, but it was there, and it surfaced from time to time whether he desired it or not.

Now lay on top of his trauma the fact that he had left Cauldron Lane troubled, at the least, by their quarrel: well… that made for a very vulnerable spy.

She needed to see him, to assure herself that he was safe and well, 'I have got to make things right between us… just in case…' she thought.

But Phoebe had no idea how to find him, or even how to begin to search. She was still very much uninformed of her own exact location. In all this time it hadn't occurred to her to ask Severus, as she felt there was no need to know whilst he were there with her, there was never any desire to be anywhere else but with him. Well with the exception of her impulsive, explosive demand during their first fight many months ago as she was trying to stomp from the cottage, to which she had received _no_ answer, she now realised. Instantly she wished she had been a little bit more curious during her calm and rational times.

Her thoughts drifted to the only other being she had contact with; the house-elf that had been assigned to watch over her while Severus were absent. Phoebe had spent a great deal of time conversing and generally using up her spare time (of which she had quite a lot) in the company of the elf. Yet she had never thought to question him either.

'Erlin will know, though,' she thought pensively. 'Maybe I should ask him now.'

Phoebe sat immediately up in her bed, or rather, struggled to a sitting position. She had just begun her count down of the last ten weeks of her pregnancy and was finding herself quite hindered by her heavy and awkward condition. A small wave of nausea rose up in her, but she managed to swallow it down and breathe it away. The last small bottle of Quellin was almost empty. Perhaps no more than two or three doses remained, and Phoebe wished to reserve those for a more needy time, if she could help it. Overall she had been feeling much less sick most mornings (perhaps the potion had a cumulative effect, Phoebe contemplated), though there were days that she could not cope without the teaspoon full of bitter medicine. However, today was not one of those days, she decided, leaving the bottle where it was on her bedside table.

"Erlin!" she called out to the house-elf.

Several moments later the elf had not responded, so Phoebe called again, though Erlin still did not materialise. Biting her lip, Phoebe shuffled out of the bed to go looking for the house-elf, checking every room on her way to the kitchen. He was definitely not on the premises.

Frowning, Phoebe recalled that this was an anomaly regarding Erlin that had perplexed her for a number of months now. Erlin had been mysteriously absent from the cottage on a number of occasions, and Phoebe had yet again failed to ask the relevant questions to find out why and just where he had disappeared to all those times.

Phoebe made her way to the bathroom to begin her usual morning routine. Apart from the shadow of morning sickness that lingered to distract her slightly, she felt quite well, so she was a little discomfited to discover what she thought might be a 'show' on her underwear as she lowered them. The small blob of mucus tinged with blood was not supposed to appear until much closer to her due date, she thought, and as _she_ was only about thirty weeks, the arrival of it was unsettling. Although Phoebe recalled that it could turn up quite a number of weeks earlier than the onset of labour, she had also read at some stage when she was expecting her other children that the 'show' would be unlikely to make an appearance until immediately before her first contractions in subsequent pregnancies.

It was worrying, but as Phoebe had not felt any physical signs of labour starting, she decided that she could safely go about her regular morning routine of showering and dressing. It was possible it could be weeks, at least, before anything happened, so she was hesitant to start panicking about it just yet, remaining hopeful that the sign was as benign as Braxton Hicks contractions were.

After she was dressed, Phoebe again went in search of the house-elf. She still wanted to have Erlin help her find Severus. Or at least find out that he was alright, anyway. Perhaps send him a message to prompt him to return to the cottage so that Phoebe may talk to him and smooth over their disagreement… to let him know how sorry she was about the entire mess and that it was her fault alone. At this thought her eyes pricked with hot tears and she swallowed down the hard lump in her throat to keep them at bay.

Out in the kitchen, after still finding the house-elf absent, Phoebe began fixing her own breakfast… well, she tried to. The kitchen, it seemed, was completely bare of anything edible. Up until now, Phoebe had not found it necessary to cook for herself, the house-elf had been extremely diligent with his duties, therefore Phoebe hadn't realised that Erlin mustn't have been preparing the meals in the cottage. Or at least he hadn't stored any ingredients here, anyway. She remembered that Severus said that Erlin summoned articles from the castle; perhaps the food she had been eating all this time had been brought over from the main kitchen at Hogwarts.

Giving up trying to feed herself, Phoebe grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured herself a glass of water from the kitchen tap. She sipped at it absentmindedly as she wandered into the sitting room and stood at the window. Pulling back the curtain, Phoebe glanced up and down Cauldron Lane, first in one direction, toward Hogwarts, and then the other, toward Hogsmeade. It was still quite early and the sun had not yet graced the day with its presence, but Phoebe had no trouble discerning the features of the Lane even though they were blanketed in snow.

"Where are you, Severus?" she whispered to herself, wishing more than anything that he would suddenly appear before her eyes and stride toward the cottage.

She stood there for a very long time staring out into the white padded darkness until the first rays of sparkle bounced across her view. Blinking, she turned away from the curtained window in time to see Erlin _pop_ into the kitchen just inside the doorway. After only a small startle, she greeted the house-elf.

"Morning, Erlin." With a small perverse pleasure, she noted that Erlin practically jumped through the roof at the unexpected sound of her voice from near the window. She had executed her revenge of many a fright that the elf had caused her completely unintentionally, but it satisfied her nonetheless.

"Mistress!" Erlin exclaimed, his already large eyes popping even further with his surprise. Then alarmingly, Erlin trotted to the kitchen bench, deposited the bundle he was carrying and acquired a metal pot that was stored in the corner against the wall, proceeding to whack himself on the side of his head quite viciously.

Shocked, Phoebe stuttered for the creature to cease.

"E-Erlin… what…? Stop… don't!" She dashed forward and attempted to wrest the offending article from the elf's hands. Erlin resisted at first, but eventually Phoebe managed to extract the weapon from the distressed elf and returned it to its proper place on the bench, though she warily kept an eye on the creature lest he endeavour to retrieve it for further attempts at self-injury. He kept glancing in the direction of the pot whilst wringing his hands.

"What on Earth are you doing, Erlin?" she asked, quite stunned.

"Erlin is punishing himself, Mistress. It is expected that Erlin arrives before Mistress Phoebe is up and about. It is my duty, Mistress. Professor Snape will be appalled at Erlin's lack of diligence," he explained, shaking his head in disappointment. At this the elf made a lunge for the heavy pot again, but Phoebe placed her hand on it and fended the elf away from it with her other.

"Stop! Erlin, you mustn't!" Phoebe insisted. "There is no need to do _this_ to yourself, it's barbaric!" she continued, examining Erlin's head for damage. There didn't appear to be too much considering just how hard the elf had been pounding himself.

Phoebe began to shake her head in disbelief. "How often do you do this kind of thing to yourself?" she asked.

"Erlin tries to be a good house-elf, Mistress. I only needs to punish myself once or twice every other week," he said brightly, but then his mood became saddened once more. "Erlin wishes he could aspire to never punishing… it hurts."

Phoebe couldn't help but chuckle a bit, but she quickly stifled it for Erlin's benefit. "Well, that's probably the point, Erlin," she said, hiding a grin beneath her hand. "But I … well, I order you NOT to do it ever again. It's certainly not necessary, and completely unfair in this instance, particularly. How were you to know I would rise early this morning?"

"It is Erlin's duty, Mistress! Erlin should have been here."

"Stop being ridiculous," Phoebe insisted, and then she added, "Where have you been, anyway?"

"Erlin has other duties at the castle to attend to, Mistress. Erlin cleans and organises the classrooms and the Professor's studys during curfew."

"You're working at the castle too?" Phoebe said, feeling surprised and a little bit guilty.

"Oh yes, Mistress. It is an honour to have been chosen by the late Professor Dumbledore for extra duties. Erlin has worked hard and hoped to impress the Headmaster…" Erlin paused here then added a little mournfully, "Though it is difficult to make an impression with the new Headmistress when Erlin is so busy. It is unlikely Professor McGonagall will reward Erlin with more 'special jobs' if he does not get noticed. Professor Dumbledore insisted that Erlin not draw attention to himself. Erlin's duty to Mistress is top secret, I is informed."

"Oh, Erlin… I'm sorry," Phoebe said, patting the elf gently on his shoulder. It still bemused her somewhat to think these creatures so willing to devote themselves to a life of servitude, and in the case of Erlin, actually desire further burden. However she now realised that her assumption of many months ago that house-elves did not desire recognition for their efforts was incorrect, and Erlin at least worked hard to be noticed, even if only so he could be rewarded with more responsibility. But the new duty Dumbledore had assigned Erlin was preventing the elf from earning as much satisfaction as he would like. Phoebe felt guilty even more so.

Well, this explained Erlin's occasional absence anyway, Phoebe realised. It made sense now that she thought about it – she had always noticed the elf's absence when it was either late at night (or early morning, as it were), or one particular time during the day in the summer.

"What were you doing on the day I told you Tonks came?" she asked the elf in curiosity.

"The equivalent to a 'spring clean', Mistress… during the school break. The students can be as lazy as Flobberworms!" Erlin exclaimed in disgust.

'_Flobberworms?' _"Uh huh," Phoebe agreed tentatively and just shook her head. There were definitely some things in the magical world that she honestly did not wish to learn any more about.

"But Mistress will not be answering the door again unless she is expecting someone? Most especially if Erlin is busy with his other duties?" Erlin queried, a little concerned.

"No Erlin, I've learnt my lesson about that, don't worry." Phoebe assured. And she meant it; the Witch's visit had indeed scared her enough to mind the elf's warning. And Tonks had been an ally, though neither woman knew it initially.

"Anyway, Erlin… I have extra duties for you to do, if you wish," she suggested slyly, remembering what she wanted from the elf before she discovered his absence.

The house-elf brightened immediately. "Mistress?" he inquired.

"I need you to find Severus for me."

Erlin's face definitely took on a scowl. He'd expressed his displeasure at the dark man's behaviour to Phoebe the night before, once she had calmed somewhat, and Phoebe had snapped at the elf, forbidding him from saying anything further negative about Severus. Erlin had bowed his head and not said another word on the subject, but it was clear now that Severus was still not the elf's favourite wizard at this point in time.

"Erlin… please don't hold what happened against Severus. He's finding things really tough right now… he isn't himself. He would never intentionally hurt me. I know it!"

"Master Snape is dangero-" Erlin started to declare, but Phoebe cut him off.

"_Professor_ Snape!" Phoebe insisted, tersely. "It's _Professor _Snape, Erlin!" she admonished the elf, swallowing down her guilt at having been the cause of the disrespect being shown to the brave man who was somewhere out there risking his life for the entire Wizarding world.

Erlin looked puzzled for a moment. "But Master Snape is no longer a staff member-"

"I don't care! It doesn't matter. He will return… he will, and he deserves your respect!"

Sighing, Phoebe lowered her gaze from the elf, fighting tears, regretful of her outburst, placing her fingers lightly over her lips.

"I'm sorry, Erlin… I shouldn't take this out on you either." Phoebe lowered her hand again and reached out to lay it on the elf's shoulder. "You perceived the wrong idea last night. The fight… it… it was _my_ fault, not Severus'… mine alone." Phoebe lifted her eyes to the house-elf's once more. "That's why I need you to find him… I need to assure _him_ of that too, do you see?"

The house-elf's attitude seemed to alter before Phoebe's eyes. Though when he spoke, the response was still not what she wanted to hear.

"Professor Snape is not to be contacted by Erlin. It is part of my instructions, Mistress. I is sorry," informed the elf, his tone regretful, "Mistress Phoebe's existence is also only to be revealed in the case of an emergency, and only then to Headmistress McGonagall or Madam Pomfrey. Erlin can do no more."

Frustrated, Phoebe turned away from the elf. "Damn!" she cursed aloud, huffing out a loud sigh of frustration. 'Now what?' she thought futilely.

Erlin took up his bundle from the bench and emptied it onto the counter. Eggs, bacon, bread, milk, oats, butter and jam were soon dancing themselves into a meal under the guidance of the house-elf's magic.

Phoebe had returned to the window to glance out it again. The laneway toward Hogsmeade was still vacant.

"Where exactly are we, Erlin?" she questioned, turning back to the busy elf.

"Scotland, Mistress."

"But where? I mean… what and where is the nearest Muggle town?"

"Many miles away, Mistress… much too far to walk," he answered, and Phoebe garnered from his answer that he was perhaps attempting to dissuade her from leaving the safety of the cottage again.

She turned back to her view from the window, but this time glanced in the direction of Hogwarts castle, contemplating the visible towers that spiked spectacularly into the sky. Was there perhaps someone there who could help Phoebe get a message to Severus? It wasn't too far to walk…

Go on, review - you know you want to... ;)


	41. Chapter 41 Irony and Coincidence

Yay - I think this is pretty timely - don't you all? :D I hope that my inspiration continues to allow me to give updates quicker now. Now probably not as quick as this one though, because this was mostly written as part of the last chappie and I decided to cut it, and because I am heading into a stage of this ficcy where I have to really think out the plot and timeline - there are 'events' which need to be matched up exactly to make sense etc. Well, I don't want to accidentally give too much away... please read on to find out just where Severus and Phoebe are at now...

Severus is confused about his role in this war - and even though he accepts that he is destined to be forever 'grey', something causes him to contemplate the true colour of his nature more closely. Phoebe is desperate to make things right with Severus, but is she always going to make foolhardy decisions...?

**Chapter 41**** – **_Irony and Coincidence_

Severus, eyes still closed, stretched an arm out to his side, finding the bed solid beneath the extremity all the way to his fingertips. A bit confused he opened his eyes to discover why his usual single bed had seemed to grow overnight.

The sight of the ceiling wasn't right to begin with, and then when he lifted his head to look around, the previous night's memories all came rushing back to him. He had practically staggered to Phoebe's house in London and crawled into her bed to recover from the torturous encouragement courtesy of the Dark Lord.

And though the lingering ache, shivering chills and fever resultant from the enduring of the cruciatus curse should have passed by now Severus noticed that he still felt markedly under the weather.

He lifted both arms and placed his hands over his eyes to scrub at his face, only to remember too late that he had multiple unhealed cuts and scratches covering his features.

"Blast and shit!" he swore, as the first trickle of blood made a track down across his temple and cheek heading for the clean pillowcase.

He bounded out of bed to prevent the stain, but had to reach for the nearby wall to prevent himself toppling to the floor as a dizzying sensation swept over him. He tried to blink it away, but it, annoyingly, would not desist. Raising a hand to his eyes again and rubbing at them, though more carefully than before, Severus detected that his face felt quite hot. In fact, he felt feverish all over, he soon realised.

Making his way to the bathroom, Severus examined himself in the mirror. His usually pale face was flushed and drawn. Each cut that was visible was notably flared with infection and thrummed with a dull ache.

"Oh, bloody fantastic," Severus whispered sardonically to himself, and proceeded to strip for a shower. If he was going to feel like shit, well at least he would make himself as clean and fresh as possible, including his hair this time, he decided, which was caked in blood and muck at the moment, along with its usual oily residue.

Once out of the cooling shower and after partly re-dressing himself in his black clothes that he had refreshed with a cleansing spell, Severus searched the house for Muggle disinfectant. Without knowing the incantation to cleanse the injuries and not having the luxury of being able to seek professional help (nor the desire to seek out Bellatrix), he had no choice but to treat himself and risk suspicion, after all.

Besides, he reminded himself, he had decided that he was ready to end his role of spy as soon as possible, anyway.

Finally locating a small bottle of disinfectant under the bathroom sink, Severus transfigured an old screwed up sheet of newspaper into soft cotton wool and began to dab disinfectant onto each of the fissures in his skin. It stung like the devil, but he gritted his teeth and persisted until every one had been cleaned. Then he finished dressing in his robes and once again found himself assessing his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Though he was still flushed with fever and achy all over, he appeared much better than he had when first rising. His hair, which normally lay lank and oily, was shiny and soft, improving his overall appearance ten fold. He really did need to get into the habit of washing it more often, just as he remembered his mother had frequently scolded him about when he was young.

"Satisfied, Mother?" he questioned rhetorically to the vacant room. But then sighed guiltily when he thought how his mother would have been far from satisfied with the choices her only son had made throughout his life and, as a result, the perilous circumstances in which he now found himself.

Shaking his head dejectedly, he left the bathroom for the sitting room, to begin to plot his next move.

Sitting on the sofa, Severus spied the Muggle television set in the corner of the room. Curious, he approached the device and switched it on. He knew how to operate the machine, as he had on occasion encountered one whilst growing up in the Muggle world, most often in his Muggle primary school, but his parents had never owned one. His father, simply because the waste of a man preferred to spend his money on booze and cigarettes, and his mother, because she grew up as a pureblood witch and never desired that type of Muggle entertainment even if she could have afforded it. So Severus had never had one under his own sole control for any significant period of time where he could peruse the channels and choose which programme he would prefer to watch.

The Muggle news was on the first station, the news woman was blathering on about Muggle football which was of no interest to Severus whatsoever, so he located the channel button and switched stations, considering and then discarding various selections such as religious sermons, children's programmes and a show about antiques until a music video appeared on the screen and the gentle, upbeat tune permeated the room. Satisfied with the song as background noise for the moment, he returned to the sofa after finding a small tin of baked beans in the kitchen cupboard and a utensil with which to consume its contents.

According to the label which had flashed momentarily on the television screen, a woman named _Alanis Morrisette_ began singing her song called _'Ironic'_. Severus half listened to the words, intrigued. His own life had been littered with ironic moments, and he wondered with a certain amount of amusement whether he could draw a parallel with anything from the lyrics.

At the end of the song and half way through the tin of baked beans, Severus gave eating up as a bad joke. His appetite was thoroughly suppressed by the bacterial war raging within his body and the food, heavy in his stomach, was actually making him feel worse, not better. He summoned a glass from the kitchen, aimed his wand at it filling it with water and taking a few sips before setting it to the side also.

"Lupin…" he stated aloud after a long contemplation. "I think perhaps we have an _ironic_ relationship," he again expressed aloud. Severus was contemplating whether Lupin assumed that Severus had been trying to lead the werewolf to safety as he had originally claimed two nights ago and was unfortunately ambushed, or if Lupin had actually suspected that Severus was responsible for laying the trap outside Grimmauld Place in the first place, as was the truth. It may be that the original plan to solidify Lupin's trust in him and subsequently lure him away from safety, to in turn betray him, was not altogether lost. He could easily claim he had no knowledge of the ambush himself, but was able to talk his way out of the predicament with the other Death Eaters.

Severus vaguely noticed a new song begin on the television.

His thoughts about capturing Lupin continued. Could he take advantage of the werewolf's gullible and trusting nature again?

He blinked, feeling the sting of regret and guilt stab at his already upset stomach. Severus had to admit to the fact that, his own trauma aside, it had been somewhat of a relief that Lupin had escaped last time. He had hesitated at every step in the planning, extremely mindful of his own reluctance at being the cause of Lupin's, likely horrific, demise. And now he had to plot the whole thing all over again knowing this time that he must not allow him to evade capture a second time.

But still he did not _want_ to go through with it. Even now, with his own life in the balance he could think of a number of reasons why he were still reluctant to deliver even an old schoolyard bitter enemy into the hands of Voldemort, not least of which was the scarring of his own soul through guilt.

"…_your soul, when it comes to the flowers now_

_Who… who…Who will save your soul, after those lies that you told, boy_

_Who will save your soul, if you won't… save your own_

_Lah di dah di dah da, da dah da…"_

The song in the background whispered its message to Severus and his eyes were drawn to the television screen informing him of the name of the young artist crooning her ballad - _Jewel_, and the name of the song, _'Who will Save your Soul'._

Severus listened to the rest of the song, though he did not receive further guidance than that which he had already garnered; though what did it really mean? Was it suggesting that he sacrifice his own life in order to spare Lupin's? And then… what of the horcruxes... and Potter? The infant… Phoebe…?

By now the next song had begun and Severus glanced up to see _Oasis – Wonderwall_ skim across the bottom of the screen.

'Phoebe,' he thought again, troubled by the notion of leaving her behind.

"… _gonna be the day  
That they're gonna throw it back to you  
By now you should've somehow  
Realized what you gotta do  
I don't believe that anybody  
Feels the way I do about you now_

Severus listened intently to the rest of the lyrics.

_Backbeat the word was on the street  
That the fire in your heart is out  
I'm sure you've heard it all before  
But you never really had a doubt  
I don't believe that anybody  
Feels the way I do about you now_

And all the roads we have to walk are winding  
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding  
There are many things that I would  
Like to say to you  
But I don't know how

Because maybe (maybe)  
You're gonna be the one who saves me ?  
And after all  
You're my wonderwall…"

His breaths were now coming quick and shallow, the experience more than surreal. Severus was stunned and confused. How could it be that these songs seemed to reflect elements of his life so precisely? But was it a sign, or merely an amazing set of coincidences?

The song continued and he allowed the message to flow over him again and again until the tune came to its end.

'Am I to survive?' he wondered.

The next song began in the background with an introduction by the show's hosts…

"_And now a request from one of our viewers, a Pearl Jam hit that topped the charts in 1991…the third tune from their hit album 'Ten' – __**Alive**__. This one's for you Eileen and baby Sarah…who her mother tells us sings along to the chorus with fervour… enjoy!"_

"… _home alone at age thirteen  
Your real daddy was dyin, sorry you didn't see him, but I'm glad we talked..._

Ooooh I, oooh, I'm still alive  
Hey, I, I, oooh, I'm still alive  
Hey I, oooh, I'm still alive…"

Severus, shaken enough for one day, immediately leapt to his feet and switched off the television.

"Ridiculous!" he snapped harshly, but of course he did not quite convince himself of this. How could he? His mother, _Eileen_, had died when he was thirteen and then his father had passed away several months later when he was _almost_ fourteen. And then there was the message the song apparently sent itself… too much of a coincidence, he acknowledged deep within himself… too much.

His eyes were now sparkling with the ghosts of his past, but also with the hinted promise of a future. Dare he hope…? If he chose the right path – saving Lupin, and preventing his own soul from being further mutilated, but therefore condemning himself to the mercy (or lack of) of the Dark Lord … would there be someone there in turn to save _his_ life…? Did _fate _have a plan after all, as Dumbledore had alluded to many months ago?

Scoffing, he shook off the destabilizing thoughts and repeated in a much softer tone, but firm, "No, ridiculous…" and took a seat once more beginning to detail a new plan concerning the capture of Lupin within his own mind. After all, out of all the deceptions, betrayals and murders he had had to commit recently, not a single one had he really had a choice to avoid… had he?

'No… best not to pin false hopes regarding my future on strange coincidences…'

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

Gazing up at the visible Hogwarts towers, Phoebe let the idea wash over her.

_Walk up to the castle and seek out somebody who could help her find Severus, or pass on a message to him._

But she could only sigh with regret when she conceded that the notion was nothing more than a fanciful wish. Not least had she promised Severus that she would not leave the safety of the cottage again, heeding her experience of the earlier misadventures when she had defied him and had very nearly come to grief as a result; but she also recognized that Erlin's orders regarding not being able to contact or relay a message to Severus would apply to _all_ others from the light side, lest they undermine his undercover position; endangering him. And Phoebe _did not_ want that!

So Phoebe reluctantly turned away from the window and allowed the curtain to fall back to its original position blocking out most of the bright morning light; facing the now breakfast laden table. A little food would make her feel better… or at least take her mind off brooding about Severus for a while, anyway.

Phoebe took a seat at the table and shuffled the chair in as far as her belly would allow her. She chuckled slightly at the thought that popped into her head about the likely-hood of spilling food all down her front because she was physically unable to lean over her plate properly and catch the potential spills.

'Those who had never been pregnant (men predominantly) took their agility completely for granted,' she thought ironically.

About half way through the meal, Phoebe ceased eating and laid her cutlery to the side of her plate. The food Erlin had prepared tasted good, but something about it wasn't quite right.

In fact, it wasn't the food that wasn't quite right, it was Phoebe herself, she realized. She was actually feeling a bit odd or strange… but could not put her finger on a specific ailment or symptom. She didn't feel any more ill than she had this morning, and was not feeling any pain, as such, but she felt… well, _odd_. There was just no other word to describe it. The sensation caused her to remember the 'show' she had this morning, and she began to wonder whether its appearance was a little more significant than she would like it to have been.

Still, possibly because she wanted it to be so, Phoebe tried once more to dismiss what she was feeling and what she had discovered. It was entirely possible that the sensations she were feeling were able to be, completely and innocently, attributable to the restless night she had just had, after all.

She picked up her cutlery once more and resumed eating, forcing herself to eat the delicious breakfast. Usually the heavier food settled her stomach for longer than cereal or toast, and hopefully when that happened, she would begin to feel more _normal_ again. She was hesitant to overreact to the unsettling, but potentially uneventful coincidences…

Please review - it would mean so much to me to know what you think... :D

So sorry to make you think Phoebe was going to bugger things up again with another idiotic decision- I couldn't help myself but mess a little with your minds... tee, hee. Forgive me...


	42. Chapter 42 Best Laid Plans

My latest offering to my devoted reader/reviewers... not too long a wait, I hope. Just wanted to mention quickly, that I will never abandon this ficcy, no matter how long I take between updates (although I hope not to repeat the ridiculously long waits of a few chapters ago), so please keep checking. This is my solemn vow!

The previous two chappies were... let's say, the calm before the storm... I hope you enjoy what is to come ;)

Severus thinks he has things under control despite feeling not quite up to par... but just how wrong could he be regarding the plans, safeguards and measures he has implemented over time? It's going to be a wild ride for him... and others along the way...

**Chapter 42**_– Best Laid Plans_

It was late afternoon when Severus strode purposefully toward the front door of his Spinner's End home, disabling the wards and unlocking the door with an easy flick of his wrist.

Upon entering his tiny living room, Severus called loudly for the other occupier of the dwelling.

"Wormtail," he shouted, lacing the word with as much disdain as he could muster. He began pacing the room, unable to remain still as his whole body was tense with worry, an unsettling anticipation and the persistent thrumming of infection.

After a minute the rat-like man appeared from the direction of the kitchen looking rather sheepish.

His disdain well placed, he decided, Severus fixed Pettigrew with a scathing glare. "Snooping again?" he accused, deducing quite rightly that the insipid man had once again been rifling around in Severus' cellar laboratory.

"I- I…"

"Save, it!" Severus bit out angrily. "So, did you find anything incriminating?" he bitterly asked in addition despite his attempt to let the repugnance of the invasion of his private room wash by without affect.

"I… no, I… No." Wormtail finally admitted.

Silence between the two stretched out as Severus continued his deadly glare, but Severus was running on borrowed energy as it was, and exhaustion was lingering too close for him to waste it on a show of repulsion toward the watery eyed man. He let his gaze drop and along with it his shoulders drooped a little.

"You look like shit, Severus."

The dark man responded only by snorting sarcastically.

"Where have you been-" Pettigrew began.

"Where in bloody hell do you think I have been!?" Severus interrupted to demand. "Out locating Lupin again, you imbecile," he added, his already thin patience being sorely tested. "I, as you have so helpfully pointed out, am in no mood or condition to go another round of Cruciatus courtesy of the Dark Lord. Or worse…" he muttered in addition. "Perhaps you _are_?"

"No, of course n-not."

"Good. Let's get this over with then," he said, beckoning Wormtail to follow as he turned for the door.

"You've found him?" Pettigrew tentatively questioned.

Severus nodded, approaching the door and reaching out for the handle. "He is on duty guarding the Dursley house. It appears Potter's relatives may have returned home despite the risk to them. I can only wonder in amazement at the lack of intelligence of the pair of them, Petunia in particular, being Lily Evans' sister."

At allowing that last statement to escape his lips, Severus promptly clamped his mouth closed. Best not to allow any further trace of his regard for Lily to become public knowledge, he decided.

"What would you know about Lil-"

"I know you are her betrayer!" Severus retorted immediately. "And you have another old school friend to condemn, Wormtail… let's go!" With that, Severus wrenched open the door and strode into the cobble stoned street, trying arduously to reign in his temper.

Wormtail was suitably cowed, snapping his mouth shut instantly, grabbing for his heavy cloak and following Severus into the street; pulling the door shut behind him.

Severus waited impatiently for Pettigrew to adorn the article of clothing before he instructed, "Magnolia Crescent, Little Whinging, Surry," with a sneer.

Then the two men turned on the spot and disappeared with a crack.

The new street was eerily quiet when Severus reappeared. He immediately ducked into the nearest shadow caused by the afternoon sun on a high fence, yanking on the sleeve of the slower reacting Pettigrew; dragging him into the shadows beside him.

"Why not just announce yourself to the Order and be done with it?" Severus hissed nastily.

Pettigrew nervously examined the street. "There's no-one here."

"Yet!" Severus bit out, but he was also surveying the street, determining for himself that there was indeed no-one about. After several nervous moments, he acknowledged that it was more than likely going to remain as such.

The two men made their way to the observation point used by the Order to guard the Privet Drive house. Severus had put in a number of hours here himself during the last couple of years, though he had never had the misfortune of observing Potter himself, thankfully. Fortunately, the Dark Lord had never become aware of these treasonous assignments; to have allowed him the knowledge would have placed Severus' life itself in a very perilous position. Consequently, and fortunately, Dumbledore recognised this and only ever required Severus to participate in times of desperation, and therefore he was only ever here in a temporary, fill-in capacity, and never for a full shift – but still, he had been required to fill the position before and he knew exactly what the limitations of the site were.

Following Severus' lead, both men stopped in their advance and took cover once more in the shadows of a low sparse bush. There was a light dusting of snow covering the footpath and upon looking back the way they had come, Severus noticed their footprints were easily visible.

Indicating to Wormtail that he required him to stay put, Severus withdrew his wand and silently invoked a cushioning charm upon the soles of his boots; this would both aid in keeping the snow undisturbed with each step, and would assist in reducing any inadvertent noise produced by his boots upon the concrete where the snow thinned out.

Several meters more down the street, Severus caught site of the bus stop bench upon which he knew Lupin was seated. He quickly disillusioned himself and proceeded closer to the other disillusioned body. The sky was just beginning to dim into night, he mechanically noted.

It was simply by chance that Severus had discovered Lupin there earlier that day. He had decided to check this location if only purely to rule out the site. Only, as Severus was about to leave, he'd heard the unmistakable sound of Apparition close by. Ever alert, Severus had instantly disillusioned himself and slid himself behind a large tree trunk in one of the front yards from which he could observe the street, including the bus stop several houses down from number four. Upon identifying the Werewolf taking up the watcher position and then witnessing the return by motor vehicle of the Dursley family, Severus questioned how his luck had always been so appalling in the past – it most certainly was not failing him now.

He'd then returned promptly to his Spinner's End house to enlist the Secret Keeper; Lupin would need to be told of the address in order to be delivered to the Dark Lord at Lamnordron.

Approaching the Order member now, Severus' stomach was again rebelling; churning violently with apprehension and doubt. He took a deep breath to attempt to settle it, blowing the air out slowly and smoothly; he most definitely was not feeling his best.

When he felt he was close enough he tightened his grip on his wand.

"Lupin," he whispered harshly, loud enough for the disillusioned figure to hear, wondering to himself incredulously just what in Merlin's name he was doing giving his nemesis warning of his presence.

Predictably Lupin first sent a disarming spell in Severus' general direction which he quickly blocked, though the rebounding spell gave away his exact location despite the disillusionment. Severus immediately non-verbally banished the charm that had been concealing him, and was ready instantly with his shield charm incantation on his lips in case of further attack. Though fortunately, Severus' abrupt appearance momentarily stalled the werewolf's next offensive move; his curiosity obviously getting the better of his sense of self preservation fleetingly… but only fleetingly. Lupin struck again, the red streak of light directed straight at Severus.

"Stop!" ordered Severus a little breathlessly, after invoking the shield almost too late. This encounter was most definitely not going as he had planned it.

Lupin paused in his attack as requested, though did not lower his wand. Severus recognised this behaviour as a result of the doubt in Lupin's mind as to the extent of Severus' responsibility in the first attack; as he had pondered at Phoebe's London house. Apparently Lupin was to constantly be fraught by the tendency to always give the benefit of the doubt to those that perhaps didn't deserve it. Of course, today Severus would not lament this inclination.

"What do you want?" Lupin bit out at him.

Severus' mind was fuzzier from his ailment than he first realised, he decided, as he failed to come up with the answer to the question put to him. What _did_ he want?

'To warn Lupin… to _save_ him?' Severus glanced dazedly at the ground, still unable to form a proper, solid thought. He began to subconsciously shake his head. '_Wormtail_ was waiting mere meters away… the Dark Lord would not tolerate another failure… the Horcruxes cannot be retrieved unless _I _do something about it from inside the Death Eater camp.' It was too early for him to abandon his spy duties!

"I-I… I can't do this," he said quietly to himself, though it had been said loud enough for the wizard standing a little away from him to hear.

"Can't do what?" Lupin breathed, a concerned and somewhat bewildered expression sweeping over his face as he considered the dark man standing vulnerable in front of him. He took a small, apprehensive step toward the other wizard, letting his wand drop slightly.

Severus' eyes snapped up to the werewolf's as he instantly lifted his wand to strike, the cold spark of determination in his gaze taking the dishevelled wizard by surprise. Lupin immediately realised his mistake, allowing himself to be lulled into this unguarded moment, and fear and alarm shone bright in his wide eyes.

"Ex-pelliarmus!" Severus commanded forcefully, and Lupin's wand flew into his outstretched hand. Severus followed up the disarming spell with another non-verbal incantation and thin ropes exploded from the tip of his wand and snaked around the now defenceless wizard incapacitating him, causing him to tumble awkwardly to the ground; unable to prevent himself from bashing his head on the concrete pathway.

Lupin groaned and hissed in pain as Severus approached him.

"Severus… no, please…" he pleaded, frantic and distraught.

Severus could barely look him in the eye.

"I have no choice… I am sorry," he responded trying desperately to keep emotion out of his voice; out of the three words so rarely spoken by him, and even rarer that they were uttered so earnestly. He failed spectacularly!

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

Phoebe woke from her afternoon nap much more refreshed, but she sighed when she remembered Severus' continued absence and the things she desperately wanted him to know.

Rising slowly, she noted thankfully that her nausea had dissipated, and made her way to the bathroom once again. As she stepped through the doorway though, she stopped abruptly, feeling an odd _trickle_ in her nether regions.

It was not the gush of waters breaking and puddling on the floor, and in fact Phoebe doubted that the fluid, whatever it was, had even been enough to soil her underwear… but the fact that all three peculiar signs she had noticed today were all connected in the same way was now too much for her to attribute them to mere coincidence.

Enough was enough, it was now time to alert someone to her worries. She did not want to risk the health of the baby within her because she was too stubborn to ask for help, or a second opinion, at least.

After using the toilet, Phoebe made her way directly to the sitting room and approached the cabinet in which she had stored the message sphere that Dumbledore had given to her all those months ago.

"Erlin?" she called out.

The house-elf popped his head around the corner of the kitchen doorway. "Mistress?" he answered, a questioning expression on his face.

"Now… I'm fine, but I've been feeling a little weird for most of the day, so-"

"Mistress Phoebe is unwell?" Erlin interrupted in worry.

"No…no I'm okay, really. I just want to be sure. I'm sure I'm probably overreacting, but I just want… someone to talk to. Professor Dumbledore gave me a message sphere to get in contact with Molly-"

Interrupting Phoebe's babbling again, Erlin looked downcast. "Erlin cannot help Mistress Phoebe?" he asked forlornly.

"Er… ahh, not with this… sorry, Erlin. Woman's business… you know?" she tried to explain, though it came out lamely.

"Oh," expressed the elf, obviously understanding; turning a shade of pink.

'Interesting,' Phoebe thought, 'house-elves can blush?'

Shaking her head clear of the bizarre thought, she continued to retrieve the sphere from the top draw. Holding it delicately in her hand she again admired the fine etching upon the seemingly flimsy glass, remembering the night the Headmaster had given it to her with sadness.

It seemed a shame to have to break it, considering it was the last and only thing she had been given by the kindly old man who had seemed to like her, and who Phoebe had surprisingly grown to care for even though she'd only known him for such a short time before he had died.

Sighing heavily, she shut the drawer and turned to a patch of uncarpeted floor on which to drop the glass ball. Looking to the elf, she asked, "Just like this?"

Nodding, the elf responded, "Yes, Mistress… just like that."

Phoebe smiled at him and dropped the message sphere, then watched intently as it splintered with the faint tingle of glass breaking against the hard floor when it landed, followed by the _whoosh_ like a violent gust of wind. A glowing, cloudy swirl burst from the ball as it shattered, spiralling up into the air, briefly forming the vague shape of what Phoebe imagined was a _doe_ before it shot toward the window of the sitting room, dispersed along the glass before incredibly passing straight through and disappearing into the dimming sky beyond.

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

The Burrow was in chaos at that very moment. Molly was hurriedly ushering Tonks into the emergency closet shelter along with her daughter-in-law, Fleur, and then squashed herself in after them, turning immediately to ward the door from the inside with every locking and barricading spell she knew. She was biting her lip harder with every crash and yell that came from outside their sanctuary. Her husband and two of her sons remained in the kitchen fighting off the vile Death Eater contingent who had broken through their wards and stormed their home without warning.

Suddenly she felt the door heat up considerably, glow a bright shade of orange, then fade to normal. She breathed a sigh of relief… the shelter was now completely undetectable and impermeable, activated by one of the Weasley men from the outside. With a shuddering, stifled whimper, she wished that they could be safe inside with her and the other two witches… but she knew they had to make an attempt to get out and warn other Order members. No patronus could be sent from inside the shelter – it was impervious to all magic, regardless of the location of its origin.

She would have stayed outside to fight alongside her _boys_, but Bill had insisted that she hide Fleur, and Tonks, she knew, was _not_ be seen under any circumstances by anyone, most especially Death Eaters. But neither witch had consented to hide without her, so she'd had little choice but to push and shove them all quickly into the closet with her larger than average bulk, just so they were safe.

The bangs, crashing and shouting continued for several minutes, before all became eerily quiet.

"Merlin!" Tonks had whispered in alarm.

"Shhh," Molly hushed, lifting her hand warningly to the two women inside the shelter with her. "It isn't over, they're still out there."

Sure enough, a moment later the sound of dinnerware smashing and a deranged, livid, frustrated screaming rang throughout the house.

"Bellatrix," Tonks hissed, and Fleur gasped before they once again fell silent at the insistent squeeze on their arms by the Weasley matriarch. However they could feel the tension in their host's body release the smallest bit. Bellatrix's aggravation suggested that all three Weasley men had managed to escape. Molly couldn't help but sigh in hopeful relief.

"Shut it, woman!" demanded the cold voice of Lucius Malfoy so close to the shelter that Molly could have reached out and touched the man had it not been for the solid and warded door. All three concealed witches gasped in shock unconsciously and recoiled back from the door.

After an agonising pause where the witches worried that they may have been discovered, Lucius spoke once more. "There is nothing further to be found here, let's go!"

Molly listened intently and optimistically to the sounds of the retreating Death Eaters, only to be abruptly horrified at the loud _whooshing_ sound followed by a stark splintering of glass and the unmistakeable voice of Severus Snape booming out:

"_MOLLY WEASLEY! Your presence is requested by Ms Phoebe Hanson as soon as possible at number Seventy-seven Cauldron Lane, Hogsmeade!"_

This time it was Molly's harsh and trembling whisper hissing into the darkness of the closet shelter.

"My Lord and Merlin…"

**_I appreciate all the reviews that have been sent to me in the past, every one of you that made the effort have a special place in my heart - but I have much more room available... please do join us... I really would love your input. Please review!!!!!! :D_**


	43. Chapter 43 The Upper Hand

Thankyou to all readers and reviewers... please continue to take the time to make my day by clicking on the button and leaving a comment!

Now Severus has finally got his hands on Remus, what will he do with him?

And poor Phoebe, despite being such a good girl and following all of Severus' rules, her hidey hole has been discovered by a random set of coincidences and bad timing...

Read on to discover what becomes of them all...

Oh, and this chapter is dedicated to remuslives23 because of a threat I just cannot ignore... LOL!

**Chapter 43**– _The Upper Hand_

Severus stood menacingly over the bound figure of Remus Lupin, his wand pointed directly at the werewolf's heart.

"You are both lucky and unlucky today, Lupin," he stated coldly. "You have been granted somewhat of a reprieve… you will not be killed here and now by _me_."

Severus paused a little to let the information sink into his captive's frantic mind.

"Instead, however, you will be delivered directly to the Dark Lord." Here, Severus was unable to maintain his cold, indifferent mask and emotions of varied kinds were able to leach their way into his words. "He will undoubtedly toy with you… it will not be pleasant. In fact, I am almost certain it will be intolerable… but you must _not _give him what he desires. Resist, Lupin… I implore you!" he hissed fervently.

"I-I… resist?" Remus stammered, furrowing his brow, trying to absorb what was being said to him, though he was also apparently assessing his dire circumstances.

"What the Dark Lord wants from you… aside from your blood," Severus added callously, "is _information_… you are _Potter's confidant_, or so _He_ believes. Do not give him what he wants! Your only job for the Order now… is to endure and resist."

Remus stared back at Severus incredulously, "Job… for the Order? You mean Occlude?" Severus crouched down to his eye level.

"If you are able… for as _long_ as you are able," Severus confirmed with a slight nod of his head. "Our time is up - this conversation never occurred."

Standing again, Severus left the werewolf momentarily to fetch Pettigrew; heading back down the pathway toward the hidden Death Eater, though he never took his eyes off his captive.

"He is secured, Wormtail," he hissed loudly.

The piggy eyed man appeared from a rustling bush, wary and unnerved. He made his way to Severus'side, his gaze searching out the bound Order member lying in the snow by the bus stop.

"Give him the address," Severus directed, "and here, store this within your robes," he added, handing over Remus' wand with the hand that had caught it several minutes ago. "I do not wish to give him the opportunity to steal it back from within my robes when I Apparate us both."

Severus watched as Wormtail made a show of stowing the wand deep within his inner robe pocket, then approached the restrained werewolf. With his back to Severus the rat-like man crouched down, leaned in close to Lupin's face and whispered the address. It was loud enough for Severus to hear that he had divulged the correct locality, but not loud enough that any passers by could hear, should there have been any.

The small man took an unwarranted amount of time after revealing the necessary secret information and seemed to make an anomalous, excessive flourish with his right arm: Severus immediately became suspicious. He moved slightly to his left to improve his line of sight, and witnessed Wormtail's hand tenderly (perhaps _seductively?_) stroke down the werewolf's cheek.

Severus was taken aback to see the gentle caress, but somehow now all Wormtail's recent odd behaviour suddenly made sense. It seemed he was… possibly _in love_ with Remus Lupin, or cared for him, at the least. It would explain why Wormtail may have helped Remus escape during the first attack, and all his reluctant reactions in planning Lupin's capture, but never actually renounced his loyalty to the Dark Lord. His affection and faithfulness was for Remus _alone_ – and never would have extended to any other members of the Light side.

Watching Lupin's response was also telling. It was clear that he did not return such feelings. The dishevelled wizard recoiled slightly from the extended hand, a mixture of confusion and loathing mottled his features as his eyes roved Pettigrew's face, but he soon set his lips in a grim fashion, pressing them together until they were thin with fury.

"But you betrayed us _all_!" he managed to hiss between the tightly pressed lips, maintaining a harsh glare at the man offering the strange comfort.

Wormtail did not respond except to drop his hand immediately, leaning back away from their still bound captive with an almost inaudible sigh, obviously believing the interaction was still private between just the two of them.

At that moment Wormtail hissed with pain, grabbing reflexively for his left forearm, turning his head toward the dark man standing behind him. Severus threw a questioning scowl in his direction signifying that he himself had not been summoned, but Pettigrew only shrugged in ignorance back at him.

"Let Him know _we_ are on our way!" Severus ordered, indicating Lupin and himself.

Pettigrew merely nodded, stood and backed a few paces away from Lupin, then turned on the spot and Disapparated.

Severus began to approach the bound wizard once more, intending to Disapparate with him on the heels of Pettigrew when another loud crack of Apparition had him swinging around to his left in alarm.

Arthur Weasley appeared several meters away looking flustered and dishevelled. His eyes were wide with apprehension and he was breathing heavily, his wand held aloft and at the ready.

Before Severus could act, he heard Lupin's voice ring out with warning on the quiet street.

"RUN, Arthur! _Snape's here_!"

Wheeling around to face the right direction, Arthur froze with uncertainty.

_Snape_…? Friend or foe? Arthur raised his wand minutely several times to send off a selection of curses, but indecision of what was the right course of action plagued him.

Severus took advantage of the man's moment of hesitation; his reflexes beating Arthur's frantic eyes, which had finally taken in the image of the bound and vulnerable Order member on the ground at Snape's feet, to action.

"Expelliarmus!" Severus yelled out.

Arthur miraculously managed somehow to dodge the spell, diving into the bushes to his right. As he did so, Arthur was able to flick a streak of yellow followed closely by red directly at Severus who had the disadvantage of no nearby cover.

The yellow hex was deflected with ease, but the red smashed into Severus' shield and the sheer force of the impact alone knocked the dark man backwards where he fell heavily to the snow covered pavement.

However, Severus was the superior duellist and within the blink of an eye he had regained his feet and was watching another set of ropes burst from the end of his wand and snake their way through the bush; restraining the older wizard where he sheltered.

Catching his breath, Severus lifted his left hand to run it over his flushed face and back through his hair; heaving a profound and exhausted sigh of relief. The duel had left him on the brink of collapse; his unsettled stomach was rolling in rebellion of the strenuous activity. However, before he could complete the action, he felt his wand fly out of his hand, had his legs flipped out from under him and was dumped unceremoniously on his back in the snow; knocking the wind out of him with a grunt.

Within an instant, the werewolf was atop him, grabbing him by the collar aggressively.

Severus struggled against his rival, trying furiously to dislodge the man, but he could not manage the feat in the weakened state he was in: a legacy of the past few weeks torment together with the last few minutes.

"You fucking bastard!" Lupin growled close to his face, "You have no conscience whatsoever, do you… taking advantage of my trust in you? You had every intention of delivering me to Voldemort… even though I highly suspect we still work toward the same goal! I warn you though; you've played me for the last time… my _job_ for the Order will _not_ end _that_ way!"

"Finite!" Severus heard Lupin say, detecting the man's hand directing a wand toward the bound Weasley patriach: yet, in the wizard's other hand that was still pinning Severus down by his chest, was a _second_ wand… _Severus' wand_! Remus turned back to Severus.

"How…?" Severus murmured now that he had gained his breath back. He was extremely puzzled at the materialization of the foreign wand that the werewolf, by rights, should _not _have in his possession.

"Your little friend _Wormtail_ left it for me!" crooned Remus, enjoying the upper hand for once.

Severus' eyes flicked immediately to Lupin's, his normally schooled features in disarray; betrayed by shock.

"You'd better be careful, _Snivellus_…" Lupin continued, with uncharacteristic glee, "It seems those who claim to be your friends are, in fact, _not_. And as _I_ found out, those you assume hostile, may indeed turn out to be friendly," he scoffed, snorting a sarcastic laugh.

Incensed at the long-standing, stinging personal taunt thrown at him, Severus could not prevent himself from retorting, "I can say with complete and satisfied dignity, Lupin, that I have never once counted Wormtail among those I call 'friend'," he sneered. "The same cannot be said for _yourself_, however! In fact, _you_, it appears, have counted him as _more _than that!" he added with spiteful amusement. "Tell me, _Lupin_… what _had _the pair of you been getting up to whilst cringing away in the darkness of the Shrieking Shack all those years ago, hmm?" he continued to mock the werewolf mercilessly about the lewd suggestion.

"You filthy animal!" Lupin spat.

Unaccustomed to battling in the Muggle way since entering the Wizarding world at age eleven, and even more so never expecting Lupin, of all wizards, to partake in the tradition, Severus was caught off guard, to say the least, when the tall wizard restraining him with his bodyweight drew his arm back with a feral snarl and punched him powerfully in the face. As the fist made contact, brutally sliding across his features, Severus felt his lip split anew, and his nose make a distinct _crack_! A burst of warm, bright red fluid sprayed outwards from his nostrils, and then settled into a continuous stream of fresh blood which flowed over his cheek, past his ear and down his neck.

Severus grunted primitively at the brutal blow, automatically attempting to raise his hands to his paining face, already feeling regretful about his vengeful, acerbic tongue.

"Don't even think about it!" Lupin snarled, increasing the pressure of the restraining arm on the man's chest and upper arms; batting the rising hands into a submissive position on either side.

However Severus was barely listening to the threat… he not only felt as though his whole face was on fire, but he distinctly felt a throbbing headache begin to pound within his skull and his already turbulent stomach was threatening to rebel violently once more. He moaned softly and began to breathe deep breaths to try to calm his roiling stomach. By pure coincidence he also stilled his struggling; complying unintentionally with Lupin's warning.

He both heard and saw Arthur Weasley's face join Lupin's to hover over him.

"You okay?" the man questioned the werewolf.

"Yeah," Lupin answered with a nod.

Severus closed his eyes, so close now to vomiting that he could hardly bare to witness any movement around him. Sweat was beginning to bead on his brow and he felt his face drain of colour.

"Thanks… how did you know?" the conversation continued on above him.

"I didn't," Arthur responded, "It was by pure chance… though I am glad for it. I was just coming to warn you that we-"

The older man paused; looking instantly worried at the abrupt change in Severus' appearance. He was now extraordinarily pale and sweat was coating his face in a thin sheen. The dark man hadn't dared move a muscle for several moments now for fear of puking all over himself, even going so far as to hold his breath; the tactic of breathing deeply had proved ineffective, especially with a broken and bleeding nose.

"Severus…?" Arthur said, worried.

Severus dared not respond; the bile was rising in his throat at that moment.

Suddenly equally as concerned as Arthur, Remus released his strong hold on Severus, shifting his bodyweight off the apparently lifeless, dark clad wizard and moved to the same side as the red headed man. His hand immediately sought out a pulse at Severus' throat, but before his fingers settled above the artery, Severus made an odd, strangled, choking noise and suddenly threw himself onto his side and proceeded to vomit violently, expelling the contents of his stomach over the dirty snow.

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

Molly listened intently to the reactions of the Death Eaters in her kitchen, hoping against all odds that Lucius and Bellatrix had exited the dwelling and had been out of ear shot before the Message Sphere had exploded with its secret; but it was a long-shot, she knew.

"That was Snape's voice!" cackled Bellatrix, gleefully. "Narcissa and I told you he was hiding something! A little lady, it appears… by the name of Phoebe. Now isn't that interesting?"

Molly's hopes dashed, she hung her head and breathed a disheartened sigh.

"Merlin," Tonks whispered very softly behind her. The younger woman leaned to her host's ear, clutching her arm, "You knew about Phoebe?"

"Wait,' crooned Fleur quietly in her French accent, waving her wand in an intricate pattern and silently incanting a Muffliato charm. "There!"

Molly turned on the spot to face the young witches. She answered quietly back despite the knowledge she shouldn't be able to be heard. "Yes, though I had no idea she was linked to Severus until now. Dumbledore asked me to be her midwife should she find herself without other assistance. I had no clues as to who she was except that she was a Muggle. I assumed she is the same young woman Arthur and I met briefly in London, though of that I am still unsure."

Molly's attention was diverted back to the kitchen by a loud commotion. It sounded as though drawers were being pulled from their cupboards and dumped noisily to the floor.

"A Message Sphere!? Well, the remnants, anyway," she heard Lucius suddenly growl. "That means dear Mrs Weasley, at least, is still _here_… she must be… these things only work if the intended recipient is within ten yards."

There was another small clattering crash… "_You_ will stay… be sure to keep her aware that you are still here." Molly jumped at the abrupt, sharp sound of a metal pipe being hit violently against the wall nearby.

"Do you hear that, Molly…?! You'll have company for the next little while… I wouldn't come out if I were you!" Lucius hollered, clearly for her benefit.

An evil chuckle that sent chills up Molly's spine followed the announcement.

"Let's go!" she heard Malfoy speak again and after the majority of the Death Eaters left, the only remaining sounds from the house came from the lone Death Eater who stalked the house randomly hitting the walls and smashing the Weasley's belongings with the pipe.

Molly and the other women fell into a stunned and horrified silence, all three witches feeling wretched about being powerless to step in to prevent the staggering catastrophe that was about to befall the unsuspecting and heavily pregnant Muggle woman awaiting Molly's arrival in Hogsmeade.

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

Pain was not a new thing to Severus, but recently he had suffered far too much, as far as he was concerned. The violent retching caused the injuries to his face to explode with agony; muting all other sensations. He moaned loudly and felt his entire body begin to tremble with shock.

Out of reflex he tried to drag himself bodily away from the pain: unsurprisingly it made no difference. He soon gave up and buried his face in the cooling snow instead. He felt comforting hands upon his shoulder, turning him, and when he dared open his eyes, he saw the snow in front of him discoloured with vomit and copious amounts of blood. Severus allowed himself to be rolled back onto his side away from the mess, his dark hair pulled back from his face for him, allowing cool air to swirl over his skin.

Marginally delirious from the pain, he whispered the only name which had offered him any comfort, of late.

"Phoebe…"

Above him, the two Order members looked at one another in bewilderment. Neither had any idea who or what Severus was talking about.

Tonks had kept Severus' secret completely to herself… never divulging anything regarding what she discovered within the cottage protected by the Fidelus Charm. The secret of Phoebe remained uncompromised because the young witch felt she owed every ounce of loyalty she possessed to Severus who appeared, against all odds, to still be working to win this war for the Order from within the enemy camp.

Correspondingly, Harry Potter never revealed the existence of Phoebe to any adult, and having Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts in time to intercept Ron and Hermione from raising the alarm about his inadvertent abduction, he convinced the pair to keep the encounter with Snape a secret between the three of them… especially the existence of Phoebe. At Hermione's squeal of excitement of guessing the child the woman carried was likely Snape's, Harry refused to talk about her, explaining that it was important to pretend that she didn't even exist. He liked the woman; she had treated him with decency during his brief time of captivity; appearing to influence the ex-Death Eater to act rationally, and he felt he owed it to her to try to keep her as safe from the mess the war that was rampaging around her was making of the world as possible. It buggered him what the nice lady saw in Professor Snape, but as the snarky, apparent murderer seemed to still be working on the side of the Order, Harry could only attribute the phenomenon to the good influence of this woman.

"I'll heal this," suggested Arthur, indicating Severus' broken nose to Remus, finally taking pity on their captive.

"Yeah, go ahead… I never intended to break it," Remus responded.

Several minutes later, Severus was sitting with his head held in his hands, now free, at least, of the pain of the broken nose, (not feeling quite so regretful of his cutting remarks now that his pain was significantly diminished), whilst the two kneeling Order members conversed in low voices beside him.

His mind filled with thoughts of completely ending his role in this war. He was done… exhausted… he could not carry on. Potter would have to muddle his way through the rest of this mess alone… 'I give up!' he finally decided, 'I am out!'

He continued to sit despondent and motionless, but finally after a number of minutes he tuned in to the conversation of the other two men.

"… Lucius Malfoy, the Lestranges and Draco… maybe others too that I did not see. They broke through the wards. Bill's strongest and all!"

"Tonks?" Severus heard Remus' worried response.

"Don't worry, Fleur, Tonks and Molly are secure in the bunker… they're untouchable."

"Was she seen?" Remus pressed, turning to look at Severus who had momentarily looked up in interest at the question.

"No, they have no idea Tonks was ever there."

"You said Bill and Fred were with you? Are they…"

Arthur nodded, "They're fine. They are warning as many Order members as they can find… and Harry, of course."

There was a long pause, and Severus felt both men's gaze shift to him. He looked up again from his hands.

"Is he a target?" questioned Arthur, urgently.

"What..?" Severus responded, initially confused by the question.

"Harry… is he a target?" Arthur repeated impatiently.

Severus was still somewhat dazed, but he soon answered, "No… no, not as such… not yet… nothing planned, at least."

"Well who else then? The Burrow and Remus, obviously… but was there anyone else?"

"What…? No, the two are not related… I… I had no knowledge of Lucius' actions. My mission was of my own organising," the dark man revealed.

"So, no-one else was a target?" Remus intervened.

"Not that I am aware."

Severus gasped then at the insistent pounding in his head, placing a palm on his forehead; he wasn't in any mood for this interrogation now.

"Come on, let's get to headquarters… I told the boys we'd meet there."

A hand snaked under Severus' upper arm and pulled him a little roughly up to stand, but no sooner had he gained his feet then the most beautiful white dove patronus burst into being directly in front of Arthur.


	44. Chapter 44 The Fidelius Flaw

Thankyou so much to all my reviewer, I know I haven't replied to you all yet, though I will eventually, I swear. :D

It's all happening now... Poor Severus, he's jsut decided to quit the spy gig, and now they've threatened his Phoebe... will the guy ever get a break? Probably not - I just love the angst, can't you all tell???

On with the tale...

**Chapter 44** – _The Fidelus Flaw_

Fleur, Tonks and Molly clung to each other in horror in the shelter cupboard at the Burrow, listening to the carnage being wreaked on the dwelling and the Weasley belongings by the remaining Death Eater, who was also intermittently yelling out lewd, disgusting commentary, for a good five to ten minutes; although it felt eons to the hidden witches.

"Oh, I can't just stand by any longer," whispered Tonks, frantic in her worry for Phoebe, "Severus risked his life to save mine… I can't sit back and let this happen! Molly… let me out."

Tonks cocked her head sideways for a second. "He's upstairs… let me out now and I can get out without him even realising."

"No, he's already on his way back down stairs, I can hear the creak of the seventh step… the twins only realised this past year how it was that I always seemed to catch them at mischief," Molly explained in her nervousness, clutching at Tonks to ensure the brash woman didn't just dash past her as a result of her anxiety.

"But we can't just sit here, Molly-"

"I know…" Molly caught Tonk's eyes with her own, "we can't … and we _won't_!" she said, with a renewed determination. "There are three of us," she continued, "and only one of him," she observed, looking in the direction of the staircase, still listening intently.

"We'll ambush him… are you ready?" she said, and all three witches adjusted their grips on their wands subconsciously.

Both young women nodded.

"The door will take several seconds to reform… if he is in the room he will see and be ready. We can't risk that; we'll have to wait until he has made his way into the sitting room again."

Nodding their understanding again, the women waited on edge until their host was content to disable the shelter's protective wards.

The pipe was abruptly and unexpectedly battered on the panel of wood that made up the door to their shelter; causing Fleur to shriek with fright and the other women to flinch horribly. But fortunately the spell preventing any sound from reaching the intruders' ears held strong. The Death Eater continued to remain ignorant of the existence of the door and cupboard, and therefore unaware of just how close he had come to the witches' hiding place.

The series of spells protecting the bunker were, to date, impenetrable… throughout the whole of wizarding Britain not a single case of failure was documented. But the method had its limitations including no magic being able to penetrate in either direction through the wards; the only space that was able to be protected was one that was sealed by six surfaces – effectively boxing in the protected. That is to say; a roof, floor and four walls… not even a sphere was able to be protected with the charms. Its practicality was therefore considered useful, yet restricted to emergency bunkers such as the Burrows' closet shelter.

Molly listened carefully. She knew every inch of this house she had called home since before the birth of her first child, and therefore knew every squeak, groan and snap that signified movement around the rooms of the dwelling that by all appearances seemed to defy the laws of gravity… and in fact _did_ with the assistance of magic.

The Death Eater walked slowly around the kitchen, and Molly almost screeched in her urgency to have the disgusting man exit _her_ domain. Her knuckles were white from squeezing her fist so tightly around her wand.

Molly hissed a final set of instructions to the two younger witches behind her in the bunker, "He's just leaving the kitchen now, he'll move into the sitting room and then if he does what he did last time, he'll linger at the far window. Fleur, you'll have the job of backup, okay?"

"Ov courze, Molly," Fleur answered assuredly, "votever you zay."

"Good girl! Ready Tonks?"

"Absolutely," Tonks replied determinedly, her intense focus due to strict Auror training undeniable.

Listening acutely once again, Molly heard the vague _squeak _emanate from the floorboards just inside the sitting room doorway.

"Enderecto disserpartae mona Burrow," Molly whispered to the door with a gentle flourish of her wand.

The door shimmered, glowed a soft orange colour before settling several moments later back to its regular solid form.

Molly grasped the door handle, twisted and gently pushed the thin door open. Quickly her and Tonks, wands held aloft, assessed the room and then beckoned Fleur from the cupboard to follow them. Molly peeked into the sitting room off to her right to see the ugly Death Eater with his back to her. She moved slightly into the room and began to swing her wand, but at that precise moment Tonks inadvertently stepped on the squeaky floorboard as she came up alongside Molly.

The Death Eater was instantly alert, diving to his right to shelter behind the thick supporting post holding up the ceiling. As he turned to consider his adversaries, a look of surprise blossomed on his face, though it quickly faded to sneering determination.

Molly and Tonks sent their hexes anyway, though they merely bounced off the obstruction causing more destruction to the room.

The Weasley matriarch advanced into the room further to attempt to circumvent the obstruction protecting her target, but she was brought up short when a burst of red hot flame from her opposition's wand engulfed her. With a short shriek and gasp, her hands flew to her face to protect herself from the fierce burning flames.

"You look _good_ for a dead woman," he snorted toward Tonks with shameless sarcasm, and punctuated the comment by licking his lips revoltingly. "While we wait for the _crackling _to be ready we can indulge in our necrophilic fantasies… can't we?" the disgusting man crooned with a lewd chuckle, his beady eyes suggestively raking the younger witch up and down.

Ignoring the Death Eater's commentary, Tonks immediately went to Molly's aid, dousing the flames with the counter spell before they could burn her too seriously.

The Death Eater swiftly lifted his wand to attack the Auror while she was distracted with helping Molly, but Fleur was competent in her support role; she had not been chosen to compete in the Tri-Wizard Championship for nothing.

The unearthly beautiful blond slipped into the left of the room unnoticed and fired off a stinging hex toward the vile man in order to inhibit his aim. A sickly green streak of light shot from the tip of his wand but crashed harmlessly into the wall just above the two other witch's heads. They both gasped at just how close they had come to death's embrace.

Enraged, the Death Eater spun and lunged at Fleur. She had not expected him to physically advance so quickly and he managed to wrap his vicious fingers around her wrist before she could scoot back out of his reach.

"Or perhaps a threesome…?" The Dark Lord's lackey yanked Fleur to him and held her firmly against his body in front of him like a shield. He continued to hiss into her ear as his filthy hands roamed over her body; groping places they should never have touched. "Nice body… firm… I'm going to enjoy this!"

Fleur whimpered in dismay.

As he spoke he had wound his way toward the door to exit; keeping the half-Veela between him and the Auror to ensure his own safety. Fleur was struggling against his tight restraint, but couldn't manage to direct her wand that she had miraculously been able to keep a hold on toward her captor to try to free herself.

Tonks finally put out the last of the flames engulfing Molly, and turned to the Death Eater to witness him take Fleur hostage. She raised her wand and waited with livid impatience for the vulgar man to unintentionally bare a large enough portion of his body from behind his living shield for her to strike.

Just before the Death Eater made it to the door for his escape he flung a hex straight at Tonks which she promptly deflected with her shield conjured by years of honing her quick reflexes. Fleur took advantage of his diverted attention and desperate to prevent the man's escape with or without her she stomped brutally on the man's foot with her own booted heel. He hissed with pain and snarled menacingly in Fleur's ear, "Fucking bitch!" He then leaned his head forward down to where her neck met her shoulder and bit her savagely with yellowed teeth, but at no time did he loosen his grip on his captive.

Fleur yelped harshly at first and then continued to whimper with pain, squirming frantically to extract her bleeding flesh from the mauling mouth. It was enough to allow Tonks to identify a target, first sending a powerful stinging hex to dislodge the attacker from her fellow Order member when he howled in pain; then bellowed, "Petrificus Totalus!" as Fleur ducked to the side.

The hex hit him squarely in the chest and immediately the Death Eater's arms snapped to his sides along with his legs and he promptly toppled backwards to the floor with a crash.

Fleur crumpled to her knees holding her injured shoulder, and Molly promptly ran to her side to aid and comfort her shaken daughter-in-law despite her own painful burns.

Tonks approached the now helpless Death Eater and swiftly straddled the man, sitting on his chest, her wand, held in her left hand, directed menacingly at his throat. But it was her right arm that instantly sort retribution. She rapidly drew back her arm and savagely thrust her closed fist forward into the man's ugly face, hearing a distinct and satisfying crack of a bone breaking.

"Watch your filthy mouth, McNair, you revolting animal!" she sneered, as the man's blood spilt in a torrent down his face.

A few minutes later with the Death Eater securely restrained and their injuries temporarily seen to, Molly sent off her dove patronus with a warning to her husband.

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

An echo of Molly Weasley's voice floated from the glowing dove patronus, but Severus was not paying attention.

"Release me, Lupin?" he implored quietly and desperately to the wizard whose hand was gripped around his upper arm, his entire appeal weighted with fatigue; but Severus had somewhere else he wanted to be right now, someone else he needed to be with; he felt no qualms in begging at the moment. "I have no more stake in this… I'm through. You will not find me at the Dark Lord's side again, of that I can assure you."

"That is not possible, Severus, you know that… I can't take the chance." Remus whispered in reply a little regretfully. "Shh…"

Lupin was now listening intently to the patronus' message. Severus, bitter about the rebuff, barely let the words spoken penetrate his mind.

"_... were here when the Message Sphere entrusted to me by Albus was activated by the pregnant lass; Phoebe is her name. They heard it all, they now have the Fidelus secret – she's in serious danger… Lucius and the others left here straight for the address that was revealed in the message! We'll need to find Severus, Arthur… he is the Secret Keeper, and he too will be in grave peril now. I'll explain how he is involved when I see you… meet us on the outskirts of Hogsmeade on the road to Hogwarts as soon as you can."_

Both Order members turned immediately to Severus who, having finally processed what he'd been listening to, had drained of any colour he had managed to regain since he had his broken nose healed.

His eyes wide in alarm, he gasped audibly, "No… Phoebe…" and suddenly swayed weakly with shock, his knees buckled beneath him; his breathing shallow and erratic.

Remus clutched the collapsing man to his chest, but after a fierce intake of breath Severus' moment of weakness didn't last long; his strength returned with a flood of adrenalin, and in his panic he endeavoured to shove Remus violently away from him.

"Let me GO… I have to get to her… I have to get her! She's not part of _this_…" Severus struggled against the restraining sets of hands.

"No… the _address_ first, Severus… give us the secret!" Arthur demanded clutching the dark man by the collar, trying to shake some sense into the flustered wizard. "We can help… we'll all help you! But we can't do anything without the address."

Panicked beyond reason, Severus' instinct told him to refuse to cooperate, to flee… but the two Order wizards could not be shaken off.

"Merlin's grave, Severus, you don't even have your wand!" Remus pointed out, "Divulge the secret and I'll hand over your wand!"

At seeing Severus still adamantly refusing, Arthur grew impatient. He yanked harder on Severus' collar to gain his attention, "Dammit, Snape… you're wasting time!"

Severus finally saw reason… he could now see that he would not be permitted to go to Phoebe's aid without cooperating, and he knew very well he would more than likely need their backup anyway.

"Seventy-seven Cauldron Lane, Hogsmeade," he growled out, and with one final fierce struggle he demanded feverishly, "Release me!"

With a small nod at one another, Remus and Arthur finally complied; Severus shrugging off the retreating hands with impatience. The werewolf dipped into his robes for the dark man's wand and once it was offered out to him, Severus snatched it without preamble… but a hand was laid upon his shoulder requiring him to delay just a little longer.

"Remus, go with Severus… I'll meet Molly and the others and go on from there," Arthur instructed, "Take care, the both of you," he added warningly, "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Let us be gone already," growled Severus impatiently, and with a final nod Remus grasped Severus' arm tighter and both wizards Disapparated with a ringing _pop_.

Arthur looked around him briefly and noticed the curtain pulled back in the nearest house's lower floor window, though it was swiftly allowed to fall shut when Arthur spied the woman there with a Muggle _fellytone_ to her ear. And in the distance, he heard the soft wailing of Muggle police sirens. Arthur sighed heavily, he did not have the time to spare to sort out this Muggle complication now, and taking in a deep breath he too Disapparated from the street in a flurry of twirling cloak.

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

Severus and Remus appeared a little further south along Cauldron Lane than the location Severus usually chose to Apparate. Along with feeling highly anxious, Severus was extremely wary and exceptionally alert. He knew the element of surprise would be his only effective weapon should he and Remus need to endure a conflict with Death Eaters… _these_ Death Eaters in particular.

He quickly threw off the hand grasping his shoulder with a sneer of distaste. Of all the Order members he could have been stuck with, _why _this one?

"Your presence is neither needed nor desired, Lupin, feel free to leave me to it!" he said whilst considering the cottage from afar; although he was acutely aware that Lupin would never 'leave him to it'. In fact, Lupin would have at least two reasons to never do such a thing; the first being that, as the Order member had already mentioned earlier, he could not trust Severus' motives, largely due to being deceived multiple times beforehand… and the second that Lupin's noble Gryffindor sensibilities would not allow him to abandon Severus in such a volatile situation.

This suited Severus perfectly, for it enabled him to continue to be as caustic and as sarcastic as he liked toward his childhood enemy, serving to reduce his own tension (which was tremendous due to his anxiety for Phoebe's safety at that moment), but still know that Lupin would be there to back him up as long as he was able.

Of course, this did not make the statement of dislike any less true… he still loathed the werewolf with a passion, but he did need the man to assist him to extricate Phoebe from danger.

"Don't be ridiculous or melodramatic, Severus… I could never leave you to be slaughtered by Bellatrix," he replied with a small smirk.

'As predictable as ever,' thought Severus. 'Now who is being melodramatic?'

Remus went to move toward the cottage that must be Seventy-seven; as it certainly wasn't part of the scenery when he and Tonks had visited several weeks ago.

"Wait… Bellatrix?" Severus had just realised the sadistic woman would be among the count of Death Eaters who now had access to the cottage, and she most definitely held a grudge against Severus. Despite his bravado, this fact alone served to increase Severus' anxiety, and it must have shown on his features; Remus reached out his hand again and gave Severus' shoulder a quick squeeze. Far too disturbed and distressed, this time Severus did not even consider shaking off the comforting gesture.

"C'mon," Remus said, indicating toward the cottage with a flick of his head.

With a small nod from Severus, both wizards approached the dwelling with caution. As they neared the stretch of footpath adjacent to the cottage, Severus could see that the door stood ajar.

"Shit," he said quietly.

"Perhaps it might be a good idea to wait for Arthur," suggested Remus at a whisper, holding a halting hand out at Severus.

"No, they will have no qualms about hurting her… it'll be too late if we wait," Severus responded in a similar urgent whisper, pushing determinedly past the hand.

He scooted silently up the two steps to the door, and with his wand held aloft he gently pressed it open listening intently for any sounds from within.

Not having any choice, Remus joined him at his side.

Not a single whisper or noise was heard, that in itself was extremely unnerving and if they were honest with themselves they could acknowledge that did not bode well for Phoebe.

Instantly alarmed, Severus barged through the doorway followed by Remus; systematically checking every nook for any adversary. Severus advanced into the sitting room and almost tripped over a large obstacle on the floor. He looked down to see the body lying prone on the floor alongside the remnants of the Message Sphere… from where he stood he could detect no signs of life. His breath hitched in his throat.

Noticing Severus' reaction and catching site of the lifeless house-elf, Remus bent to check its pulse. He looked up at Severus with a sombre expression and shook his head.

Sucking in a few deep breaths to sooth his rising panic for Phoebe's safety, Severus raised his chin and continued his methodical search of the rest of the house. As he finally entered the last room of the house, the bedroom, his hopes were waning.

"Phoebe!" he called out sharply, but no answer came.

Remus joined him by his side once more. "The house is clear, Severus… she isn't here," he announced sorrowfully.

"No…" Severus responded quietly, absolutely grief-stricken. His throat feeling as though it had closed over he struggled for breath. "No…" but soon strange, ferocious incense consumed him and his chest felt as though it was on the brink of exploding with fury: and moments later, it did just that.

"No… No, no… No, no, NO, NO, NO!" he roared in agonising torment.

No longer in control of himself, Severus began to storm around the room destroying all manner of articles in a furious rage; swiping at the piles of books, bottles and trinkets covering the bedside tables, tipping over furniture, picking up a small chair from the corner and transforming it violently to mere splinters against the wall, punching holes in the plaster and shattering the mirror with his bare fist; cursing and damning all and sundry as his thoughts drove cuttingly through his mind.

Severus' distress was manifesting itself as anger and accusation and no-one was spared his internal rant.

He felt utter fury at himself for not planning well enough to ensure Phoebe was kept safe and secure; livid rage at those who had dared intrude upon his sanctuary and had stolen what was _his_; incensed resentment toward Dumbledore who had promised to help him and had abandoned him in the end; maddened hate for Voldemort who had torn his life to shreds at such a young age and was now campaigning to finish the job; seething animosity toward the boy who was at the centre of this war and who represented everything that had ever meant anything to him that had eventually gone wrong; exasperated bitterness for the dead house-elf who had sworn to protect _his_ Phoebe but who had ultimately failed and paid with his own life…

The last thought though undid him completely and he instantly ceased the violent raging. He was unable to prevent himself from collapsing to the carpet when his knees finally buckled as the anger morphed once again into anguished agony. A keening wail brutally tore itself from deep within him, followed by broken sobs that left no doubt of the dark man's heartache and misery.

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	45. Chapter 45 Dire

Thankyou everyone for your reviews – if I have not yet got around to answering yours, I humbly apologise. I have tried, just sometimes they get swallowed and as I'm not a patient person, I give up in disgust at my stupid computer. Often one or two will make it through the 'review reply eating error virus' that my computer seems to have contracted, so eventually I will get to yours, I promise. Besides, I just know that regardless of your desire for replies – you'd rather I spent my time actually writing instead, right???

So, here is the newest chappie – where we will learn what happened after Sev's meltdown, and just what actually happened to Phoebe… please enjoy… :D

**Chapter 45** – _Dire_

Standing in the bedroom doorway of Seventy-seven Cauldron Lane, his heart tearing from what he was witnessing, Remus Lupin barely heard the padding of numerous pairs of footsteps hurry up behind him.

He'd never seen Severus Snape so traumatised… so vulnerable. The mere sight of this man's obvious heartache and devastation had taken his breath away. Remus had naturally deduced that Severus was connected romantically to this woman; Phoebe, and that she carried a child that was more than likely Severus' offspring… so he comprehended that the demise of this woman was more than significant to the dark man expressing his grief in front of him.

He hadn't tried to intervene when Severus had begun tearing the room to shreds with unrestrained fury, and he hadn't moved to comfort the man when he had collapsed to the floor with anguish. Truth be told, he had no idea what to do, or what to say, or even if anything would make a difference anyway.

Remus vaguely recalled the extreme and intense ache that had begun to well inside himself when he had thought Tonks had been murdered many months ago. It had hurt so much; he hadn't been able to breathe… or even think. And if it hadn't been for Arthur, he would probably have ended up a blathering mess curled on the floor.

'Much like this miserable man before me now,' he thought, his brow furrowed with sadness. He had just moved forward to finally try to say something consoling when a hand dropped onto his shoulder. He jumped with a start.

"Remus… what happened?" Arthur queried hurriedly.

Finding it difficult to find the words to explain the passionate response of the dark man before them both, Remus just shook his head. He swallowed and tried again.

"She's gone… she… Phoebe… she's gone!" Remus poise was also beginning to slowly unravel now that he was not solely responsible for Severus. His recollection of his similar experience, albeit blessedly short, had shocked his composure. He felt a reassuring squeeze upon his shoulder and looked up in gratitude at Arthur.

There had been two horrified gasps at Remus' statement from behind Arthur and soon both men found themselves pushed aside to admit both Molly and Tonks into the room.

Molly made a beeline for the distraught ex-Death Eater without hesitation. She kneeled beside him and placed a tender hand upon the dark hair on the back of his bent head.

"Severus. Oh, my dear, I am so sorry…"

The dark man only acknowledged the comfort by a slight hitching in his breath between sobs at Molly's touch. She added another hand to his back, her thumb rubbing small circles in a gesture meant to reassure the hurting man that he was not alone.

SSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

Severus sucked in a deep breath. He'd let himself get far too out of control. He could feel himself shaking; it was a sharp contrast against the steady warm hands (one gently atop his head and the other soothingly rubbing against his back) of the motherly figure of Molly Weasley.

He was amazed at how good the comfort felt; he normally wouldn't have allowed it, but he would not shake her off just yet; he could use the grounding reassurance to help him gain back his control. He blew out a long soothing breath. He remained like this, breathing deeply for several moments, slowly becoming more aware of his surroundings and the others in his presence.

"I can't believe this has happened," whispered Tonks who was standing quite close nearby, "Oh, Merlin, poor Phoebe!"

Two male voices were conversing a little further away near the doorway.

"… Bill came and collected Fleur… she was pretty upset. They, along with Fred have gone to headquarters. I told them we'd all meet up there when we were through here. No-one has managed to locate Harry yet… George is still searching. Ron and Hermione are with him, I presume, as they can't be found either. To be honest, I'm a little concerned."

"I can completely understand, Arthur… Ron is your _son,_ after all."

Severus' stomach gave a tiny swoop… but he fiercely pushed the agonising thoughts and feelings aside and took another deep breath. He could not think about the lost unborn child… not just now… the knowledge of having lost Phoebe was more than painful enough.

'Oh, Phoebe…' he thought, but immediately fought back the constriction building again in his chest. Clawing his way back from this place of utter desolation was tough to say the least.

"To be honest, I really don't know where to go from here… I don't understand what it's all about," Severus heard Lupin say.

"The elf was already dead, you say?" questioned Arthur and Severus found a sudden urge to be more aware of what was going on around him.

Molly's hand shifted as he lifted his chin to look around himself. As she moved it away, he reached out and caught it with his own, squeezing a gentle, silent thankyou before allowing her to continue to retract the limb. The hand instead moved forward again and came to rest on his cheek. Her kindly expression quickly turned to worry though.

"You're burning up, Severus! You are covered in cuts and just about every one of them is infected by the looks of it. Why on earth haven't you seen to them?! Here let me…" The woman reached to push back more of his blood caked hair to get a better look at his more evident wounds.

"I am not familiar with the incantation. You _are_?" he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. Molly was not a healer by profession, he knew.

Molly let out a low chuckle, "You don't raise a family of six sons and one rambunctious daughter without picking up a thing or two about healing. We'd have practically lived at St Mungo's if I'd not learnt adequately how to heal and cleanse the daily mishaps, Severus."

The Weasley children had all been a handful at school, Severus remembered, well, all but Percy, he admitted. Nevertheless he could definitely see the woman's point about the need for her to be able to _doctor_ her own family.

"I see," he agreed with a tiny amount of amusement, incredibly so considering the circumstances.

Abruptly though an unbidden image of Phoebe and the family _he_ would now never get to enjoy flashed through his mind and all amusement was immediately smothered. His lip began to tremble, so he bit his inner cheek viciously, letting out another slow breath through his nose. After another shaky breath in, he huffed out an exhausted and distressed sigh and leaned into the warm, nurturing hands of the Weasley matriarch; it was plainly obvious that his emotions weren't yet entirely stable.

"Shhh," she soothed. "Take your time dear… it's hard, I know."

After several more moments Molly resumed the inspection of Severus' wounds. "They are everywhere, aren't they," she said, more a statement than a question; following a nasty scratch that appeared to continue down past his collar. "Remus?" she verified.

Severus nodded in confirmation and swallowed hard. He was amazed that the woman made no more comment about the fact though, she merely continued with her inspection.

"You'll have to take your clothing off for me so I can see to every single one, I won't be content to do a half job," she insisted firmly, but softened the demand with a gentle pat on his leg.

He nodded obediently. Severus was still unusually submissive to the somewhat bossy woman, but truth be told, he was feeling awfully wretched because of the insistent infections and would gladly welcome some relief. And he was even more than content to receive that relief along with the soft cushion of care that seemed so inherent in this motherly witch.

The voices of Lupin and Arthur were becoming increasingly louder as their conversation continued in the background.

"What are you saying, Arthur?"

"I'm saying, I don't think Phoebe is _dead_… not _yet_, at least!"

With a sharp intake of breath, Severus immediately pulled away from Molly's gentle probing fingers and turned toward the conversing Order members; he was instantly focused on the two men, so much so that he hardly felt Molly's worried, lightly restraining hand grab a hold of his forearm.

"They've taken her somewhere, so I can only assume she is still living else wouldn't they have left her along with the elf? My guess is that she's probably alive and is being used as _bait_."

"Bait…?" Severus all but whispered as he finally joined the conversation.

Two heads swung hastily in Severus' direction. Neither wizard had been aware that the dark man had been following their exchange.

Arthur cringed before responding, he knew his comments had been delivered in a manner that was rather detached and harsh and was feeling regretful that Severus had been able to overhear the theory he had suggested that way. It was cruel… Severus was obviously hurting deeply and he hadn't intended to add to that hurt.

"Yes… for you Severus, I suspect… there is obviously something more they want from you."

Severus abruptly yanked himself clear of Molly's restraining hand and raised himself to his feet swiping up his wand, which had been dropped at his side, in the process.

"Severus!" Molly warned in a low tone, but he ignored her.

"Then I shall oblige… it is not _me_ they want," he ground out and lunged instantly toward Lupin with a feral growl, "In the absence of _Potter_ I shall take them the other they seek in exchange!"

The dark man managed to get his fists tangled in the other's robes and directed his wand at the werewolf's throat.

"NO!" shrieked Tonks, and fortunately Tonks was quick to disarm him. She continued to hold him at wand point. "Snape… no!"

"Not like this, Severus!" exclaimed Arthur, in turn grabbing a hold of the dark man tightly by his robes and shoving him forcefully up against the nearest wall. "We can be most effective if we work _together…_we'll get her back, but we must do it together. You're one of _us_… you've _always_ been one of us… I know you have. Stay with us now… _please_!"

There was a tense silence for several moments while Severus just glared at Arthur, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed convulsively, but then he sagged in defeat against the strong hold.

"What will they have done to her already?" he whispered shakily; desperate for answers, but already knowing he would get none that satisfied him.

Arthur's expression saddened, "Merlin knows," he breathed in return, "but we'll find her… and we'll deal with it… together!" he promised, imploring the dark man with an intense gaze to trust him.

Not allowing his reassuring gaze to leave Severus' desperate eyes, Arthur spoke to Molly, "Get Severus fixed up, Molly… he's in no shape to pull this off in the condition he is now. In the meantime we'll sort out a plan."

SSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

After Phoebe could no longer see the glowing orb of light, she turned to the house-elf standing alongside her.

"Well, that's that."

"Yes, Mistress. Is there anything you wish for me to prepare for your journey?"

"Journey? Do you think it's likely that Molly will want me to go with her somewhere, Erlin?"

Looking thoughtful the house-elf answered, "Yes, it is probable, Mistress. Master Sna- I mean, Professor Snape has faith in this witch… and she is sent to assist you… Erlin can no longer help… Mistress Phoebe no longer requires Erlin!"

Feeling a little sad that Erlin thought she no longer needed him around, Phoebe dropped to her knees (a little awkwardly, but determinedly) in front of the elf.

"But, won't you be coming too… if I go, that is? I still would like you to be around, even if you aren't making my breakfast… I do like you for other reasons too, you know? Oh, Erlin… you have been such lovely company! I don't know what I would have done without you… probably gone mad with boredom, I suspect," she added with a chuckle. "You are a very special little person."

With that she placed an arm around him and pulled him into a hug.

At first Erlin was so startled by Phoebe's kind gesture that he remained stiff in her enfolding arms, but soon he melted into the embrace, wrapping his own arms about her and squeezing back.

"Mistress is so kind… so kind to house-elves. It has been a pleasure to serve you, Mistress Phoebe," he said between sudden sobs of happiness. "I would be happy to escort Mistress Phoebe if Mrs Weasley will not object."

"I'm sure she won't. So, what do you think I should get ready to take then?"

"It is very cold out, Mistress… and perhaps the Weasley family might not be used to your Muggle attire?" Erlin suggested diplomatically.

"Oh, well, maybe I should wear the robes again then… I'll go put them on, and you can get out my coat and then pack a few of my regular clothes… just in case."

Erlin grinned in pleasure, shuffling off to the hall end cupboard to retrieve a small trunk.

After dragging the burgundy robes out from the rear of the bedroom cupboard, Phoebe allowed Erlin to retrieve the heavy coat from its depths as she went into the bathroom to change.

'Lucky Severus charmed these to fit too,' she mused as she smoothed the garment over the now copious curve of her stomach, but the sudden thought of Severus reminded her sadly of her unresolved quarrel with the man.

As she exited the bathroom she called to Erlin. "If we leave, Erlin, we must remember to leave a note for Severus in case he is to come back and discover us gone. I don't want him to worry."

Phoebe heard a loud knock at the front door before the elf could answer her.

"I'll get it… it'll be Molly," Phoebe called out and headed directly to answer the door. "Wow, that was quick, wasn't it?"

As Phoebe was reaching for the door handle, Erlin swiftly jogged out through the bedroom doorway. "Mistress Phoebe… you should allow me-" but Phoebe had already turned the doorknob.

The door was instantly shoved open; Phoebe was lucky to stay on her feet. A sudden burst of colour and explosion of yells, bangs and sizzles followed. She was thrust backwards by a strong hand clasped around her throat and shoved forcefully against the wall with a grunt.

In her terror she searched the room for her protector in time to see him cut down mid stride by a sickening green jet of light. Erlin plummeted to the floor in a heap and she did not see him move again. Instinctively she knew he was dead and nothing could be done for him; she was so stunned she couldn't even scream. In horror she turned her attention to the four intruders and took in the first's brutal expression.

No need to ask to see their forearms, there was no doubt in Phoebe's mind that these were Death Eaters. Phoebe breathed out a shaky breath.

'Oh, God… how did they find me? What's happened to Severus?' she wondered in terror. Her fear was overwhelming.

The one woman amongst the Death Eaters let out a cackle of laughter as she stepped forward. "Well, well… here is Severus' little _play thing_. Didn't his Mummy ever teach him to share?"

As the dark haired witch drew even closer to Phoebe she noted her rather obvious baby bump. She snorted another chuckle, "And _play_ he has been, it seems."

Unable to retreat because she was still being restrained against the wall at her throat by the large blonde man, Phoebe could only cringe away internally when the frightening witch reached her hand to caress her swollen midriff.

"Almost ripe," she crooned, "What a shame!" she added threateningly.

Phoebe's breath hitched in her throat in shocked dismay.

"Tell me…" the witch continued, leaning in closer, "was he rough with you _too_?"

Phoebe's face dropped instantly… just what was this vile woman implying?

The second man stepped up then, "Rough, Bellatrix? What do you mean… what did Snape do to _you_?"

'So this is the healer _Bellatrix_ that Severus mentioned; Narcissa's sister,' Phoebe noted somewhere in the back of her mind.

"The bastard tried to rape me… when we were alone, planning your escape, my love. His sick, twisted little mind decided that I was his for the taking… though never fear, he quickly learned he was _painfully_ mistaken."

After eyeing Bellatrix closely for a few moments, the man turned his glaring scrutiny toward Phoebe. She gasped in fear. Whether or not the dark haired witch was telling the truth or not Phoebe could not tell, however, whatever Severus had done to earn the Witch's ire, Phoebe was surely about to pay the price for it.

The man advanced on her swiftly, "Let's see how Snape likes _his_ woman groped, shall we?" he snarled.

"Rodolphus!" snapped the blonde man restraining Phoebe.

"I'm merely searching for her wand, Lucius!" Rodolphus said, sounding scandalised, whilst beginning his search by roughly sliding his hands over her chest, lingering on her tender breasts and continuing a search of the rest of her body.

Phoebe whimpered in dismay at the obvious molestation.

Lifting the robes Phoebe wore to admit his roving hands, Rodolphus took particular care to annihilate any hint of Phoebe's modesty when he groped between her legs, sliding a single digit beneath her underwear.

He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "I haven't yet found your wand… it's not hidden in here, is it?"

Horrified beyond belief, Phoebe could no longer endure the molestation silently.

"No, please don't… stop," she begged with a sob, trying desperately to wriggle away from his offending touch, tears sliding down her cheeks.

Rodolphus merely chuckled nastily.

Lucius's face grew dark with fury, "Enough!" he demanded, shoving the other man away, but Rodolphus drew back in surrender, albeit a little reluctantly.

Lucius then stepped up closer, a gesture most intimidating. For all his efforts to prevent further assault by the other Death Eater, Phoebe in no way got the impression this man was either gentle or sympathetic.

"Narcissa was right then, it seems?" Lucius announced. "A _Muggle_?" he queried with a tinge of amusement. "Now who would have thought Severus, of all people, would tally with a Muggle."

At that moment the fourth Death Eater moved forward to glimpse the restrained woman. It was difficult to tell who wore the greatest expression of surprise, Phoebe or the blonde teenager standing agape at the Muggle dressed in burgundy robes.

'Draco!' Phoebe thought instantly. She remembered the boy from the Tea Shop in Hogsmeade… he'd looked so young and innocent then… but now he wore that pinched look of stress. Severus had had that look about him too, Phoebe noted sadly.

"You've met before, Draco?" Bellatrix asked, noticing the teen's reaction.

"Yes… in the teashop, with Mother," Draco mumbled, trying desperately not to be dragged in under the intense scrutiny. "I didn't… if I'd realised-"

"Perhaps it may be prudent to take my dear sister a little more seriously in the future, don't you think?" Bella shot at all three males around her.

At their lack of response, Bellatrix took the lead. "Time to go, I think. Draco, go on ahead and offer your mark to summon the Secret Keeper. We'll meet him at the boundary." Draco swiftly obeyed.

The woman then turned to Phoebe. "Come, my dear… there's someone I'd like you to meet," she said in a sickly sweet voice, grabbing Phoebe brutally by her hair and shoving her forward through the open front door. The remaining male members of the group followed her promptly out the door.


	46. Chapter 46 The Dark Lord

_**Hi everyone! I tried to be as quick as I could - I just hope it was quick enough. **_

**_What of Phoebe and Sev --- time to find out... :D_**

**_Please REVIEW!!!_**

**Chapter 46**–_The Dark Lord_

Phoebe had never felt such terror in her life; standing before the monster she had heard so much about. And although then she'd had difficulty imagining someone so cruel and frightening, now she could practically _feel_ the evil radiating from him… it was… _inhuman_. She could finally understand why the population of the Wizarding world were too terrified to say his name aloud and how this creature had managed to spark fear into a nation of people with magical powers well beyond any talents she, a mere Muggle, possessed.

He was watching her, measuring her, gauging her… all from across the room; though it seemed as if he were inside her. He could see everything there was to see with just his icy stare and the glowing red heat of his centre.

She wanted to back away from him, retreat; but she was held in position by two repugnant Death Eaters on either side of her: one of whom, she'd noticed, had answered to the name _Pettigrew_. She remembered the name from a few of Severus' anecdotes, a little shocked that it turned out that he was the Secret Keeper for these castle ruins; ruins that went by the name of 'Lamnodron'; also familiar from Severus' information.

It was difficult to resist the pull of His intense glare, but at the same time she couldn't bare to glimpse upon his darkened soul; battling to find anywhere to rest her gaze but in the depths of his eyes.

Though it did not seem to make any difference; she was an open book and almost even before _she_ knew what she was thinking, she knew he had already seen it.

And before she realised he had even moved he was standing within inches of her, his soft breaths buffering her cheek.

"You know who I am?" he whispered sinisterly.

Phoebe nodded instantly, her breaths coming in shudders, too afraid to do anything else but obey.

"Say my name… say it aloud!" he commanded, again in a whispered murmur, but he may as well have roared the order.

She flinched at the demand, so brutal and yet so _seductive_… utterly appreciating now how Severus had been so drawn into His service all those years ago.

Phoebe dreaded the man would lean into her and she would be forced to endure his touch, and as if she'd said the thought out loud, the evil wizard instantly swayed even closer to her, his lips dancing mere millimetres away from her skin; causing her to gasp.

"Say it!" he hissed menacingly.

"The D-Dark Lord," she breathed aloud; barely loud enough for all in the tight circle of Death Eaters that now surrounded them to hear.

His face circled hers; teasing her, _mocking_ her as his eyes raked over her features: a smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth and stretched even further with every gasp she failed to contain until he broke into a perverse chuckle.

He abruptly stepped back away from her, continuing to laugh. "Severus has trained her _well_!" he announced in smug amusement to the collection of Death Eaters encircling them; who immediately began to snigger.

And suddenly the mirth was gone again from Lord Voldemort's snake-like features as he refocused his intense glare back on her.

"He is on his way, you know… and the _traitor _will watch you die before _he himself _will suffer my wrath!"

"Lock her in the pit!" he ordered, and Phoebe was bodily dragged from his presence even more horrified than before.

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

Severus was standing shirtless in the middle of the bedroom whilst Molly fussed over every slash through his flesh.

"You're much too thin, you know," she commented, and he scoffed aloud. He could barely remember the last time he had eaten a decent meal.

"I shall endeavour to find more time to _eat_," he responded sardonically. The woman had stilled her hands at the spiteful comment and he instantly regretted his caustic attitude. Molly had been extremely kind and caring and she did not deserve such derision from him.

"No… please forgive me, Mrs Weasley… my behaviour just now was discourteous and uncalled for," he offered with guilty regret, dipping his head in shame.

The Weasley matriarch straightened herself and gave him a measuring look, "_Molly_, Severus… you may call me Molly," she eventually offered with a small, forgiving smile.

Severus nodded with hesitant gratitude, 'Thank you… Molly," he responded, and sighed wearily.

After a few more moments continuing to look him over, Molly said, "You would do well to take a dose of Pepper-up, Severus," reaching into her apron and producing a vial of coloured liquid; holding it out to the man. "I have purged your wounds of disease, but the infection would still have taken a toll on your body and strength. And a decent meal will go a long way to assist that," she added as an afterthought, "I'll go make you something to eat while you dress."

He nodded obediently, taking the proffered vial of potion. "Thank you… but just something light… I haven't been feeling too well lately," he explained, feeling oddly self-conscious.

Molly nodded understandingly, "It's because of the infection, no doubt… it will pass," she assured, retreating from the room to prepare the meal she had promised.

Severus sighed again as he watched the motherly woman leave the room. The task of rescuing Phoebe seemed a surreal, unattainable fantasy from his viewpoint standing in the warm, quiet cottage bedroom, and as he was still feeling quite poorly despite the attention to his infected wounds the probability of _success _stretched even further from reality.

'How am I going to pull this off?' he wondered desolately. His eyes found the gap in the drawn curtain that was letting in a small sliver of diminishing afternoon light. Severus found that he was drawn to the window and with one hand he swept aside the curtain, gazing out onto the whitened scenery that stretched on seemingly endlessly.

"Phoebe… how do I get you back?" he whispered questioningly to nobody, but just the mere voicing of the question Severus felt lent the problem authority to be solved.

Well, to answer _that_, he supposed he needed to _focus_… and in order to achieve that he needed to gain back some of his strength, any way he could.

Opening his hand, he looked down at the vial that had been enclosed in his palm. 'Starting with this,' he thought resolutely.

Severus quickly unstoppered the glass vial and brought it to his lips, swallowing the rejuvenating potion with barely a grimace despite its bitter aftertaste. As he felt the brew warm his stomach and flood through his veins; sparking a surge of vigour to every inch of his body, he took a deep, calming breath with unwavering determination.

He could do this… he had to do this… he _would_ do this!

All he needed now was the plan. Arthur, Lupin and Tonks were currently in the sitting room concocting the scheme; after dressing Severus was to join them – he had his own contribution to the _plans_ to make, nothing short of _cunning_ would get Phoebe back.

The dark man methodically replaced his freshly repaired garments, lifted his chin indomitably and strode out of the bedroom for the sitting room a _much _different man compared to the one that had walked in.

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

"Where is he… why is he not here yet?" demanded the evil wizard, pacing urgently across the stone floor; swishing his long robes as he spun to retrace his steps. "You said he was coming right behind you!"

Wormtail cringed away from the angry, edgy wizard striding impatiently before him.

"H-He told me… t-that's what he said," the rat-like man stammered. "He h-had Lupin bound… I have his w-wand," Pettigrew offered, digging deep into his robes to produce the thin polished rod of oak.

"Perhaps the half-breed has managed to overpower him ultimately," the Dark Lord pondered aloud, but then he paused in his pacing and fixed Peter with a frightening glare.

"Did you give the Werewolf the _secret_… perhaps you did not divulge the correct _address_?" Voldemort accused the short, dumpy secret keeper, continuing to glower menacingly at him. "Severus would not have been able to bring his captive past the wards!"

At the accusation Wormtail looked extremely uncomfortable and fearful. 'It was possible,' he thought to himself, he'd been preoccupied at the time, after all. The man glanced nervously up to his red-eyed master. "My Lord… I'm sure I did not make a mistake… I mean, I don't think so… ah-"

Wormatil was interrupted in his assurances by a sharp, hot whip-like curse across his face, chest, and upper arm. He gasped in pain and bent over double grasping his paining limb.

"You imbecile!" snarled the Dark Lord, angrily. "Find him… discover the reason for their delay! You should have made _sure_ before you left him. Fix your bungle or I assure you you'll wish you were dead long before I'm through with you!"

The watery-eyed Pettigrew backed hurriedly away, more out of fear than urgency to complete his task, attempting to pacify his master with a hand held out front in a soothing manner. "Yes, My Lord… of course… please forgive my sloppiness."

He then practically bolted out the door and headed for the boundary of Lamnordron with an urgent gait, scratching at his head, befuddled; wondering just how everything that went wrong always ended up being blamed on him.

As he passed over the boundary, with a strange mix of dread and rebellious hope, Wormtail considered whether Lupin had indeed managed to overpower Snape with the assistance of the wand Peter had slipped him, and that was the reason the other slippery Death Eater had not arrived as he'd indicated.

If that were the case, Wormtail decided then and there that he would not be returning to the Dark Lord's side… he himself admitted he had never been a particularly brilliant man, but he was far from _completely stupid_!

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

"Wormtail… you fool!" Severus bit out at the man striding across the snow covered darkening clearing, "What bloody address did you give Lupin? He cannot pass through the wards!"

Severus had remained hidden within the edge of the small forest of trees just off to the south of Lamnordorn's boundary and wards, and only revealed himself once he was sure that no other Death Eaters had accompanied the rat-like man.

He dragged the bound figure of Remus Lupin in his wake and tossed him to the cold ground ahead of him, only a few meters from the edge of the forest.

Pettigrew frowned in confused contemplation. Despite the Dark Lord's accusation and assumption of Wormtail's failure, the rat-like man had not believed he really had failed to deliver the secret to Lupin correctly, and had in fact expected to find that Lupin had overcome Severus and subsequently escaped again.

Still perplexed he crouched to the restrained Order member; a sad and bitter emotion flooding through him at the realisation that he was no longer in a position to _save_ his former classmate, friend and the boy he had developed feelings for many years ago.

He began to repeat the _secret_ to Lupin in a similarly cautious tone and volume as in Surrey, "Lamnor-"

"Louder, you fool!" Severus demanded angrily, "he won't be able to hear you! _This_ is probably what happened last time!" he grumbled in annoyance.

Without his earlier caution Wormtail complied, sick of this saga and just wishing the whole mess would be over and done with. The Death Eater's now irritated voice carried well past the initial line of frosted trees of the forest… he wanted to make sure Remus could not possibly have failed to hear or mishear him this time!

After fully disclosing the address, Pettigrew glanced up at Severus, "Satisfied?" he snapped dryly.

The dark man began to nod in a contented manner, an arrogant smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth; supplanting the previous dour expression.

"Utterly!" he murmured smugly, taking a perverse amount of pleasure from the sight of Wormtail's forehead instantly creasing with bewildered uneasiness.

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

Severus pushed a bound and gagged Lupin in front of him over the boundary protected by the wards; heading for Lamnordron's stone steps that lead up to the only series of intact rooms.

The dark man knew Phoebe was still alive, and up until now relatively unhurt… well, as far a Wormtail had been aware at any rate. Severus had wasted no time subduing the piggy-eyed man, retrieving the long stashed vial of Veritaserum from within his robes and promptly pouring it down the wizard's throat.

Under the influence of the truth-telling serum, along with Phoebe's treatment and condition, Pettigrew was easily persuaded to divulge the exact location of where Phoebe was being detained.

The documented result of Veritaserum ingestion included a guiding and encouraging effect, and once the rat-like man had gotten going, he generously and gleefully offered a general depiction of what the Dark Lord had in store for Severus. The dark man was hard pressed to resist uttering a shuddering gasp of alarm, his memory of recent torture particularly fresh in his mind. But his dismay did not last long… he'd angrily thrust the vile man in his grasp to the snow coated ground in disgust.

With fury and determination building fiercely inside his chest, Severus had immediately put into play the remainder of the cleverly crafted plan; pausing only briefly to take the deep breaths required to concentrate on creating a smooth and relaxed countenance once more. He could not let on too early that he was aware of Phoebe's capture, else he would surely not succeed in escaping, and even less likely with Phoebe (and/or himself) unharmed.

The rat-like man followed alongside him, just a step behind. Severus glanced back at him, his stony expression giving away nothing of the turmoil that was swirling in his gut.

"Keep up!" he demanded sharply, and Wormtail quickened his step obediently, giving a small nod of acknowledgement and support that was so uncharacteristic of the insipid man… but that tended to be the case when another was controlling your body.

Severus turned his concentration to locating Phoebe. He would deliver Lupin to the Dark Lord's feet, and whilst he was dealing with the Werewolf, he would slip out as silently as he could to find her. He only had to trust that his evil Master would indulge himself with Lupin before exposing and toying with the spy… it was their only chance.

So when Lucius, Bellatrix, Rodlphus, and Draco, along with several other notorious Death Eaters practically melted into view from behind various objects in the now dark courtyard and surrounded them as the trio reached the foot of the icy stairs, Severus knew that control of the situation was all but lost.

"Severus Snape!" Voldemort's high, cold voice rang out from the staircase.

The dark man's neck snapped upwards to see his Master descending the steps. Severus immediately forced Lupin to the snow covered ground and also took a kneeling position with his head bent low in a show of respect. Despite every instinct screaming at him not to take his eyes off his enemy, he sensed correctly that he was likely to survive longer if he played along as if in ignorance. Hopefully it would buy him enough time to reassess the situation.

Wormtail had backed quietly and inconspicuously into the circle to join the other Death Eaters… Severus wished for a brief moment that he could do the same. But knowing the congregation was there for him alone, he steeled himself determinedly and lifted his gaze to meet the Dark Lord's.

"I deliver you, Remus Lupin, My Lord… _alive_, as requested," Severus offered with a do or die attitude; and absolute commitment to his plan.

Voldemort began to chuckle hideously, "So you have, Snape… so you have. And what would you have me do with him?"

It was a bizarre question and Severus had no clue how to properly answer.

"He is at your mercy, my Lord… whatever you wish," Severus said, more than aware that the man crouched in front of him was in a very perilous position.

"Indeed…" Voldemort replied coldly, shifting his intense gaze from Severus to Lupin. The stooped man's eyes suddenly widened in alarm and he began to yell and beg desperately, but uselessly, around his gag to anyone he could make eye contact with.

The Dark Lord did not hesitate; he abruptly raised his wand and brought it down with a whipping slash, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" he screamed, and the man instantly crumpled to the dirty, compacted, icy snow unmoving.

Severus merely watched on with a hint of a sneer.


	47. Chapter 47 Dread

**_Another step in the Phoebe/Severus saga... _**

**_Thank you so much for all reviews - please keep them coming! :D And please enjoy this latest offering..._**

**Chapter 47**_ – Dread_

Phoebe stood clinging to the wall under the high window of her cell; listening desperately to every sound in a hope that she could determine what was happening outside.

She had heard a number of indistinct voices talking, but had been unable to make out anything specific until the high cold voice that unmistakably belonged to the Dark Lord screamed, "Avada Kedavra!" Her cell had instantly been bathed in the dull glow of sickening green and Phoebe's stomach plummeted at the sight.

She'd seen that colour before… and she'd seen the result of it too. Erlin hadn't stood a chance; and that had been all _her_ fault… if only she had waited for the house-elf to answer the door then things might have turned out differently.

Phoebe surrendered to the sad sob that was trying to force its way out of her chest.

"I'm so sorry, Erlin," she whispered aloud with a whimper; fighting desperately to keep the flood of further tears at bay.

And now, Phoebe was terrified to think who had been the latest victim of the fatal flash of lime.

'Not Severus!' her mind screamed, 'It can't be… it just can't be!'

"Please!" she whispered her plea to the ether.

With a hand resting on her rounded belly, Phoebe scooted around the perimeter of her cell for what seemed like the hundredth time since she was slung to the cold stone floor over three quarters of an hour ago. She tested each corner for an escape or weakness; pulling on the bars; rattling the door; fingers working at the screws and joins as her mind went a thousand miles an hour.

'It wouldn't have been Severus; that bastard said he'd make him watch me die first… and I'm not dead _yet_!'

"I have to get out… I have to get out!" she said, barely aware she had chanted the mantra aloud.

'Not all of us… we can't _all_ die here today… oh Severus, please don't come,' Phoebe thought frenziedly, so frantic and distraught that she could hardly think straight. On one hand she could think of nothing more joyous that seeing Severus striding urgently up to her cell to free her: but on the other hand there was nothing more devastating than knowing Severus could be walking to his death, and that she again would be responsible.

Phoebe's head was aching; she was freezing cold because she was wearing only the velvet witch's robes and was without her coat, but she was so preoccupied she could barely feel the low temperature; and she was feeling horribly strained.

'I have to get out,' she continued to chant to herself. 'If I get out by _myself_ he won't have to come… I have to get out!'

After re-testing every possible avenue of escape from the cell twice over without success Phoebe returned to her vigil once again under the window. She ran her hand over her baby bump breathing in a deep breath. About half an hour ago she'd begun to feel a dull ache deep in her pelvis and without even much contemplation she suspected that without medical help she would deliver this baby within the next twenty-four hours whether the baby was mature enough to survive or not… and as she was only about thirty weeks along even she could acknowledge there was a only slim chance of the baby making it --- and that was only if _she lived_ that long, of course.

"I'm trying, baby… I'm trying," she whispered distraughtly to her midriff huffing out a frost fringed breath.

The high, cold voice belonging to Lord Voldemort suddenly carried in through the elevated window above her. "Retrieve our _guest_, Rodolphus… Wormtail, assist him!"

Phoebe's breath caught in her throat. She was out of time… they were coming for her! And that also meant that Severus was probably here already too.

'No… no, no…' Phoebe began to sob and this time she let the tears run freely.

It wasn't long before the dark-brown haired Rodolphus; a traditionally good looking man on the exterior, though one who appeared as though he'd lived a thousand lives; was making a show of unlocking the old brass padlock that was securing Phoebe's cell. He was chuckling quietly, as if at a private joke, but the man made no secret of leering perversely at the distraught, heavily pregnant Muggle woman. She recoiled away from him as he came towards her, but her back was against the wall of the cell quite quickly and the horrid man wasted no time grabbing her by her shoulders; towering menacingly over her.

Phoebe was aware of the presence of a second man who had entered the cell, but she could not see just who it was exactly. It didn't matter though; they were all as disgusting as each other.

The first man, Rodolphus, stared coldly at her and abruptly bent his head to her ear… it was apparent he had not yet had his fill of revenge regarding whatever Severus had done to earn _Bellatrix's_ ire. Phoebe gasped in startled dismay.

"Hello lovely," he crooned with false regard, although the more accurate sense of disdain and contempt was more than palpable. The man lowered his head even further until his lips were nuzzling at the skin at the base of her neck.

She tried to keep him at a distance by pushing her hands against his chest, but he was apparently not in the mood to be told _no_; abruptly abandoning his encouraging lips for admonishing teeth instead. He nipped at her neck whilst his hands recommenced the molestation they had started earlier that afternoon.

Phoebe cried out, struggling frenziedly to get out of his repulsive and offensive grasp.

"No, ow… get off, arrgh!"

He did not stop, but the roving hands grew more insistent and aggressive the more she struggled and his playful nips soon developed into more savage and sadistic bites. But Phoebe decided she was not about to tolerate this treatment this time. She'd not earned this punishment and was determined not to give the filthy wizard the satisfaction of having dealt it out.

With a fierce thrust she shoved him away from her enough to free her hands, and took great enjoyment in swinging her palm at his cheek; connecting with a resounding _crack_.

"Get the fuck off me you foul _pig_!" she spat at him.

It was not as though she'd expected there would not be consequences for her audacity and resistance, but the brutality and swiftness of his retaliation caught her off guard. He instantly and viciously backhanded her across her face which knocked her to the floor and flung her forcefully into the rear stone wall.

"Grr… you dare call me a pig, you filthy little _Muggle_?"

As she came to rest Phoebe discovered her left cheek was throbbing intensely; her lip was split and bleeding and the rough stone had scraped a large graze across the entire right side of her face. Her right knee was also paining; having landed quite heavily on it. Phoebe gasped in pain and whimpered in distress as she huddled against the wall as far away from the brutal wizard as she could shuffle.

But the wounds to her face and her leg were not Pheobe's greatest concern. She immediately wrapped a supporting and protective hand around her swollen midriff, feeling the dull pain in her pelvis spike to a definite pulsing ache. With a moan she instantly regretted her antagonistic behaviour.

Pheobe could see Rodolphus' booted feet in her peripheral vision and gasped again in alarm when they made rapid steps toward her once more; cringing and awaiting a second blow… but miraculously it never came. She looked up briefly to see the second man, _Pettigrew_, with a restraining grasp on the larger man's forearm.

"We don't have time for this, _He_ is waiting," he informed the tall Death Eater, and Rodolphus gave an infuriated growl of annoyance at the reminder.

"Maybe he'll let you play with her later," scoffed Pettigrew with a soft snort as he stepped closer to the cowering Muggle woman.

With a sneer Rodolphus replied callously, "I don't do _dead_, Wormtail… I like mine screaming and thrashing, unlike you: much more entertaining! But Snape's return has ensured there won't be much left to play with," he muttered irritably.

Phoebe tried hard to remain silent at the cold-hearted announcement, but the reality of what both she, and with certainty now _Severus too_, was facing came crashing down on her with its full weight. She began to tremble involuntarily; breathing shuddering and erratic breaths in dread.

"Get the Muggle!" the larger man ordered with a contemptuous flick of his hand, perhaps too frustrated to do the deed himself; he turned and walked to the cell door, waiting on the outside for his comrade and captive.

Pettigrew, apparently also known as 'Wormtail', made the final step that brought him right next to Phoebe and she whimpered in terror. He bent down to grab the woman by her upper arm and lifted her to stand beside him. Later Phoebe would look back with hindsight and realise it was much gentler than she had been expecting.

With his back to the other Death Eater the short, repulsive, dumpy man caught her eyes and spoke in a low whispered tone, "Phoebe, _do not_ deliberately provoke them… you'll only get yourself hurt."

He then yanked on her arm and pulled her toward the cell door and the waiting taller Death Eater. "Come on! Hurry up!" he snapped as an abrupt flash of lightening and a roaring surge of thunder resounded overhead causing all three to cower.

If Phoebe had thought Wormtail's advice _odd_ she had no time to react to it. Before she could comprehend anything more she was once again shoved to stand before the Dark Lord; surrounded by his dark minions whose black robes were stark against the snow covered background.

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

Severus had been ordered to rejoin the circle of Death Eaters after seeing Lupin cut down. Although he was careful not to show it, he was shaken that the Dark Lord had not taken the opportunity to amuse himself with his prey. In fact, he hadn't even taken the time to Legilimize the half-breed and purge him of information regarding Potter as Severus had expected him to… and that _had_ been the purpose for delivering the Werewolf alive, had it not?

And now the result of killing the Order member instantly had stripped Severus of the few contingency options he had been counting on.

He secretly wondered to himself just how in control of this situation he really was… for all the Order's careful planning and then supplanting his own cunning contribution it now appeared his strategy to extract Phoebe from Death Eater clutches was vanishing in a rapid downward spiral of one demoralizing blow after another.

The Dark Lord had now dismissed him to the circle and this had thrown Severus for another loop. He had been certain that Wormtail had divulged the truth about Voldemort's plans for he and Phoebe; so why had the fiend allowed him to escape the spotlight when he already had him so vulnerable at his feet? It was unnerving; but the circumstance was also supplying a burgeoning sensation of _hope_ that Severus could not afford to let distract him.

When the evil dictator had announced the Death Eaters would celebrate tonight with a dabble in Muggle torture, subsequently ordering Wormtail and Bellatrix's husband to retrieve the 'guest of honour', Severus' breath nearly caught in his throat; the budding sense of hope was immediately snuffed.

'Phoebe… no, not this… Damn it, he is _toying_ with me!' he thought, horror-struck; now understanding Voldemort's motivation for permitting him to adjourn apparently disregarded into the false safety of the circle; and concurrently not knowing how he was going to be able to restrain himself to merely behold what the Dark Lord had in store for Phoebe long enough to devise an escape route for them all.

He dared glance about himself; taking in the setting and the positions of all who were present. He discovered the Dark Lord studying him with narrowed eyes when his fleeting glance passed over the snake-faced man and his stomach gave a jolt in dread, but Severus did not allow any form of recognition to show or his own gaze to linger, he needed this charade to drag on for as long as possible.

By the time he had observed the entire circle of Death Eaters, the dark man was gripping his wand so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Becoming aware of his building tension, Severus relaxed his grip a little and stretched his fingers one at a time over the length of polished ebony; cautiously drawing in a deep breath and expelling it slowly; watching the white puff of frost escaping along with his warm breath a surprisingly soothing exploit.

It had become apparent to Severus that both he and Phoebe were very unlikely to survive the encounter this evening, but his determined decision back at Cauldron Lane to do anything and everything in his power to rescue_ his_ Phoebe would not allow him to give up until every prospect was thoroughly exhausted. He took a second deep breath to fortify himself; it would take all his physical, magical and _mental_ strength to pull it off – if it were at all possible.

For the first time since rejoining the circle Severus felt the Dark Lord's scrutiny leave him. With an impatient, feral growl Lord Voldemort threw his wand enclosed fist directly above him and commanded a fierce bolt of lightening to streak across the darkened sky, followed closely by a booming clap of thunder. Severus could not prevent himself cringing from the intimidating rumble that rolled through his very being; swallowing convulsively; acutely aware that failure tonight would result in countless forms of extreme _agony_!

Fear gripped his chest momentarily as the two Death Eaters appeared at far end of the compound around a high corner of rubble and approached the circle of the Dark Lord's servants; pushing cruelly ahead of them (a sight obvious even from this distance) a limping, very pregnant woman.

His eyes took in the vision of her; every little detail… just in case he was never to see it again.

As the trio drew closer Severus could make out the damage done to Phoebe's face; anger began to burn in his gut, fuelling his resolve to get her out of this mess he had created and unwittingly shoved her into.

She hadn't noticed him yet; her head had been dipped toward the ground during the entire march and for this he had been grateful; if she had reacted to him in any way his time would have been up… he would have had to act immediately… but he wanted -- no _needed_ more time to get his plans sorted in his head. The dark man knew he would not make it more than two or three rushed steps toward Phoebe to attempt to shield her before they would both be cut down: he knew he'd need an alternative reason to get within reach of her… but _how_ he would accomplish that he did not yet know.

Wormtail delivered his captive to the foot of Lord Voldemort and took a large step backwards as Lestrange resumed his place within the circle. Phoebe was left vulnerable in full view of the entire ring of unsavoury and violent members of the dark side. Severus watched on as she lifted her chin bravely and faced the Dark Lord directly. In that moment he lost any doubt that this had been the woman for him… pride swelled in his chest.

"Brave little thing, aren't you," the Dark Lord muttered, mildly amused by the woman's pluck; but then his eyes narrowed in irritation as he inspected her more closely.

Severus held his breath when Voldemort abruptly stalked up to her and snatched her chin up in his long-fingered grasp, tilting her face to the side and examining her injured features.

"Starting early, Wormtail?" he accused in a harsh tone, glaring at the rat-like man.

"Not I, my Lord," explained Pettigrew with an indicative incline of his head in Rodolphus' direction.

"Rodolphus?" Voldemort then queried, directing his burning glare at the other Death Eater.

"There is a matter of a score to settle, my Lord…"

At the pronouncement the Death Eater's eyes briefly flicked in Severus' vague direction and the dark man knew instantly that this brutal treatment of Phoebe was direct vengeance for _his_ mistake many months ago of raising Bellatrix's ire… with Rodolphus abetting, she'd taken her restitution from Phoebe in his place!

"… I beg you forgive my need for _justice_," Lestrange requested, showing only a hint of apprehension explaining himself to the Dark Lord. "As it is now, I feel the message has been delivered loud and clear." Lestrange added, his smug, sneering expression, obviously intended to be witnessed by Snape, utterly unmistakable.

The firestorm of anger in Severus' gut, mixed now with the sickening feelings of guilt and regret, burned more fiercely. 'Lestrange, you _bastard_! Both you and Bellatrix will pay, I swear it on my life!' his mind promised silently in fury.

The Dark Lord's glare became measuring in nature as he narrowed his eyes.

"You have a need for retribution… _don't we all_? It is a day for _messages_, I would suggest," the Dark Lord hissed, now fixing his fierce glare back on the woman in hand; she whimpered in fear. After several intense moments Lord Voldemort released his grip on Phoebe's face with little regard for gentleness; Phoebe gasped at the heavy handed treatment. He turned to the ring of Death Eaters surrounding them.

Severus in turn fought hard to remain absolutely still, the only outward sign of his struggle a slight tightening of his grip around his wand.

Voldemort perused his group of followers, eyeing each in turn.

"It seems we have a _traitor_ amongst us, we are here today to find out who would _dare_ defy Lord Voldemort… and to deal with him appropriately," he announced to the circle. There was a moment of shocked whispers and hisses before the Dark Lord raised his hand to command silence once again. "However, I have recently been fortunate enough to come into possession of the turncoat's _plaything_… here she stands before me… a_ Muggle_," he spat condescendingly, introducing Phoebe with open outstretched hands as though she were a starlet upon a stage. More shocked whispers followed the proclamation.

Phoebe remained staring straight ahead; Severus could now see she was shaking, though otherwise for the moment remained non-reactive. 'Good girl,' he thought encouragingly, 'try to remain calm.'

His hand squeezing painfully around his wand now, the dark man decided to take his own advice and drew in one more covert, deep breath; focusing intently on his shielding technique, shutting away his emotions, calming his mind and body.

By now the evil wizard's gaze had fallen upon Severus; the cold eyes fiercely probing in their intensity, but the dark man returned the gaze with an Occlumency induced clear mind, his features set in his well worn, aloof expression giving away nothing of the man's recent inner turmoil.

"Shall we see just how long it takes to… _flush_ _him out_?" the Dark Lord crooned, his narrowed eyes lingering on Severus just a little longer than they had the others in the circle.

Severus continued to take even breaths, commanding control of every inch of his body. The evil gaze moved on to the next Death Eater in line but Severus did not drop his guard in the least.

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

The Dark Lord's scrutiny eventually returned to the vulnerable pregnant Muggle woman standing rigidly in the centre of the circle, determinedly refusing to explore the ring of henchmen for the presence of the father of her unborn child. She would not betray Severus; it was apparent to her that if he had not yet stepped forward that he must have his reasons (though Phoebe could not see how either of them would escape now).

Feeling the cold much more intensely now she was out in the snowy grounds, Phoebe shivered once but then lifted her chin to face the evil wizard again; she would not give him the satisfaction of terrorizing her to the point of not being able to even look at him… not _now_... not with her probable death looming so closely!

But once her eyes met the cold, red, pitiless ones her lungs seized in her chest; pure evil radiated from those eyes… from that soul; and no-one could _ever_ get used to beholding such malevolence, surely. It took every ounce of her resolve not to dip her head to avoid the wicked gaze once more.

Huffing scornfully, Voldemort took an intimidating step to tower over the woman. "Your feeble display of bravado is futile, you know… it will not hold out through what I plan to do to you. You will soon be screaming for the pain to stop… begging for _mercy_!" the Dark Lord assured her.

At the evil wizard's promise Phoebe wanted nothing more than to bolt… but knew it would be of no use; every Death Eater within the ring encircling her was clasping their wand in what seemed to be itching with anticipation to put their instruments into action; she would not get very far if she tried to break away.

That option excluded, there was nothing left then but to simply endure what was to come, to remain as stoic as possible… to be as strong as Severus needed her to be.

"Then you don't know me at all," she said with a swelling of defiant courage… but Phoebe's bravery was not to last.

"Really…? Well, let's get acquainted then…shall we _dance_?" he hissed menacingly to her, slowly parading his yew wand in front of the woman's face sadistically; even running the tip provocatively down through the graze on Phoebe's cheek to her neck, at which she gasped a hiss of pain and dread; her breaths now coming in terrified shudders… and it all suddenly became too much for her to handle.

As the weight of what awaited her overwhelmed her, the woman instantly began to sob with fear.

Voldemort began to chuckle triumphantly before he stepped back and with a sharp flick of his wand he cried…

"_Crucio_!'


	48. Chapter 48 Dark Magic

**_Hi all - long time no see! Sorry about that! Writing this chapter was like pulling teeth - it just wouldn't come. I struggled and struggled over it, but finally I have come out with something I am happy to post. I hope you enjoy! Not it is a little longer than my usual chappies, so hope this makes up for the wait._**

**_Let's see how a pregnant Muggle will cope with a little Dark Magic, eh?_**

**_And how will Severus go having to sit back and watch it all unfold..._**

**_*evil chuckle*_**

**_Oh, and Please Review... :D_**

**Chapter 48** – _Dark Magic_

Phoebe could never have imagined such pain in her life. Every fibre of her body was screaming from the sharp, intense agony ripping through her from the curse.

In those moments she was not herself, she was no-one… she was nothing. No thoughts could fully form in her mind and she was aware of nothing but the blinding pain.

Then suddenly she could feel and sense… and hear. The screaming was deafening and frightening in its desperation, and she was forced to gasp a breath… and abruptly the shrieking stopped. And in that moment she became aware that the desolate cries had come from her own mouth.

A moan escaped her lips before she again dragged in a deep breath, followed by wretched sobs wracking her body again.

The shallow, dirty snow upon which her cheek lay was biting cold; seeping through to her bones, and she only now comprehended that she must have fallen to the frozen ground at some stage. She didn't remember falling… she couldn't remember what had happened or where she was. There was a buzz around her, but couldn't make out anything coherent from the blended noises… not yet, at least.

Phoebe opened her eyes to a flurry of hazy movement; the world seemed only black and white and somewhere in the back of her mind she registered the oddity.

And instantly there was red… the cruel gleam of red pupils set into the frighteningly deformed face glaring down at her.

"Your first taste of my _hospitality_, Ms Hanson, I would hate to think you thought me uncouth," hissed the horribly thin lips which twisted inhumanly into the semblance of a smirk.

Phoebe's eyes widened with fear as a recollection of the past several minutes rushed back to her.

"That's better," Voldemort scoffed quietly, "much more respectful now, aren't we? Get up!" he ordered in a louder tone, the stooping wizard moving away suddenly.

Phoebe hastened to obey… Voldemort had her attention now and she dared not provoke a second taste of his welcome sooner than she could help. As she pushed her body to a sitting position she felt the stabbing cramps in her abdomen and could not hold back a moan of pain, but she did not linger and somehow scrambled to her shaky legs; scrunching her face against the ache.

Above the pounding of her heart and the rushing of blood in her ears came the cruel snickers of several in the surrounding circle of Death Eaters. Phoebe's hazed vision swept over the figures encircling herself and the Dark Lord and her breath froze in her chest as her eyes picked out the profile of Severus standing rigidly amongst them… it could only have been a blessing that her less than perfect focus could _not _discern the icy glare and the callous smirk shaping his lips; images such as those had no place being her final memories of the man she surely loved.

She immediately snapped her gaze in the opposite direction; she could not implicate him… there was still a chance he could escape tonight. If only she could scream to him that he was in danger… he was standing there so dispassionately, as though he had no clue of the plans the Dark Lord had for him. She had to do something!

Her gaze snapped back to the tyrant pacing a few meters from her and as he turned his evil glare back onto her she took an involuntary step backwards. "No…" she heard herself beg automatically, a swooping thrill of fear rolling in her gut.

"Oh, yes," he returned coldly with a crass chuckle, aiming his wand at her once again. "Cuti-sub-sensor-vore!"

Phoebe gasped aloud as her skin all over her body began to writhe and sting, feeling as if she were being attacked by small creatures biting mercilessly under the surface of her skin; burning and stabbing so intensely that she could not help scrape violently with her fingernails at her arms and any part she could reach of her skin in order to relieve the agony.

She shrieked and yelped as she clawed long deep scratches along every visible surface of her body and the skin continued to bubble hideously. By now she was scrambling awkwardly in an uncontrollable and macabre dance of desperation all over the tight circle… being slapped and scratched and shoved when she came within reach of the ring of the Dark Lord's minions.

Around her the snickers of the vile onlookers turned to chuckles of appreciation when she stumbled and fell heavily to the ground once more. By the time the hex had been lifted Phoebe was dripping with blood from the many grazes along her skin. She was sobbing and wailing wildly and begging for mercy. "Please…. no more, don't… please!"

The Dark Lord appeared unmoved by the woman's pleading, "And you promised _so_ much more," he bit out in disgust. "Where is your _courage_, Muggle?!" he roared furiously, rushing forward and snatching up a clump of Phoebe's hair; lifting her brutally to her feet, "We've barely begun!"

Phoebe howled in fright at the savage treatment, and after the cruel wizard flung her to stand in the centre of the circle once again, she bowed her head and whimpered expectantly, a fierce tremor more than noticeable, waiting for the next onslaught.

"Angelo! Show me something entertaining… but _don't_ kill her!" the dark Lord suddenly hollered, passing the gauntlet to one of his followers.

A burly man stepped forward with a delighted smirk. He held his wand aloft without a hint of hesitation, "Aduro corpus!" he bellowed, and a flame burst from the tip of his wand and engulfed the woman who had cowered away from the heat with a squeal.

Phoebe's hair caught fire immediately and she screeched in pain; barely aware of the flames that were spreading across her head. As soon as the crackling of the small blaze alerted her to the peril, she frantically batted at the licking tongue of heat in an attempt to extinguish it. After several moments all that was left were the dying embers, but Phoebe had been scorched badly enough and the stinging blisters on her hands, arms, face and neck seared more and more viciously as time passed.

The Dark Lord was cackling malevolently along with his minions, but paused briefly to drawl the next attacker name. "Lucius… what do have for me?"

The austere man stepped forward into the circle as the Death Eater known as Angelo returned to his place. Producing his wand, the blonde man flicked the instrument and out burst the apparition in the shape of a very large dragon; its long razor sharp teeth menacing and ferocious. The spectre reared back suddenly and rushed at Phoebe with a deafening roar, its jaws wide in anticipation of a brutal attack!

Phoebe, nerves frayed to breaking point, screamed in horror. She turned and dashed frantically from the fearsome phantom – willing to take her chances with the dark, menacing figures lining the circle - slipping and sliding awkwardly on the uneven muddied earth. She tripped suddenly on a large, protruding mound of rubble, slashing her knee and her palm open on the sharp debris as she collided with the ground.

However, a searing flash of pain that overtook all other discomfort sliced abruptly through her lower abdomen and she could not ignore it. Phoebe grasped at her swollen midriff and grunted in agony. She couldn't get up again, she didn't even try, and shrieked all the more when she looked back quickly and watched helplessly as the dragon spectre snapped its jaws down over her completely; squeezing her eyes shut at the last moment.

But Phoebe was surprised to discover there was no added pain; only a raucous laughter from the Death Eaters surrounding her. Shaking uncontrollably, she remained curled on the ground; her arms wrapped protectively around her unborn infant, breathing shuddering breaths between whimpers. Her eyes still shut tight against her torment, Phoebe sobbed in grief at her hopeless situation; wishing her ordeal were over… wishing for death to rescue them both.

HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS

Severus could hardly bear to watch, but he forced himself to remain aloof; his eyes never leaving the horrifying scene before him.

Phoebe was in obvious pain, terror and now, curled into a protective ball amongst the mud, Severus perceived her hopelessness. To be forced to witness the callousness exacted on a Muggle - as he had so many times before – and be able to do nothing about it, yet on this occasion upon the one person he cared for the most, was a torture in itself… he could not have hurt more if it had been himself receiving the brunt of the curses in the centre of the ring of Death Eaters.

But Severus was anything but naïve; he knew it would be his own fate next if he did not do something soon. His greatest hope now was the Dark Lord calling him up for his turn at delivering the torture; just to twist the knife of his torment. It was a slim hope, but he clung to it like a beacon until another opportunity came to light.

"Wormtail!" invited the Dark Lord, indicating to the short man to take his place as the next tormentor.

Severus nearly allowed his expression to falter; fury burning hotter at the idea of _that _man taking his turn at torturing Phoebe.

Pettigrew took his place in the centre of the circle and faced the fallen woman. With a flick of his wand, the woman was yanked into the air by her feet and dangled upside down; her robes falling about her head, obscuring her face and shoulders from view. She continued to sob and scream whilst her arms fought against the heavy material; grabbing at her swollen midriff.

Of all the choices of persecution, Severus could hardly complain of the watery eyed man's selection; it was somewhat lacking in viciousness… but what he saw whilst Phoebe was inverted in the air wrenched at his heart. An unmistakeable patch of bright red blood stained the woman's underwear and tops of her inner thighs. The ongoing torture in the game of 'flush out the spy' was inadvertently taking its first casualty…

When she was almost lowered to the ground after a few minutes, Wormtail whipped away the control of his wand and Phoebe was dumped to the muddy snow in a heap. The raucous laughter of the group was almost deafening in its cruelty.

"Rodolphus!" the next call for a participant rang high and cold in the air.

The large man stepped up enthusiastically, holding his wand aloft.

"Imperio!" he bellowed, and immediately reached for the fastenings of his own trousers as he pushed his robes aside. The wand directed Phoebe to raise herself to her knees; silently and eerily compliant.

Severus' restraint was pushed to its limit at the Death Eater's obvious intention and he took an involuntary step to place himself between the vulgar wizard and Phoebe; though a self-preserving burst of sense had him halt immediately. Fortunately the movement did not set alight suspicion; all pairs of eyes were trained upon the spectacle occurring within the circle of the Dark Lord's followers… except one. The dark man discovered the scrutinizing surveillance as his own eyes quickly swept around the ring.

Bellatrix's steely gaze bored into his; accusing in nature, malicious in intent. Then she suddenly smiled; an ugly, simpering excuse for delight, and not a welcome sight for the dark man in the slightest.

The witch turned toward the action and the Dark Lord who was watching with a malevolent glint as Bellatrix's husband was unfastening the buttons of his fly in front of the kneeling Muggle.

"My Lord!" she screeched, stepping forward to address the dark dictator. All eyes shifted to the deranged witch; halting all action with the change in scrutiny.

Severus became extremely uneasy at the woman's disruption to the offence being committed by Rodolphus; he sensed that her intrusion would result in even greater consequence. His eyes darted nervously around the current participants within the ring trying to secure a plan to act as quickly as possible; his opportunity was rapidly coming to a close… he could _feel_ it.

The dark man noted that Wormtail had not retreated all the way to his place in the circle since his turn as persecutor… he hovered somewhere to the close right hand side of the kneeling woman, but not close enough for Severus to use his position to his advantage.

'Damn!' he thought, nearly panicking… this situation was like a ticking time bomb, fraught to explode at any moment!

"My Lord, she is with child… as I am sure you have not failed to notice," Bellatrix crooned.

"Yes, Bella… it is particularly difficult _not_ to see that… your point _is_?!"

"I suggest a use for the foetus, My Lord… you have long wished for a recruitment of _loyal_ followers?" the cruel woman said, laying particular emphasis on the term 'loyal'.

Lord Voldemort suddenly seemed to take the woman more seriously by turning to her fully.

"Forgive my interruption, My Lord, but the Muggle is haemorrhaging… the foetus will not survive if we do not act soon."

The Dark Lord appeared to consider her words, then after a studying glance back at the kneeling Muggle woman, he asked, "The child is viable?"

"Yes, I believe so, My Lord… I estimate her gestation at about thirty weeks. With proper care the child will live."

During the further several moments whilst the Dark Lord considered the proposal Severus held his breath in horror at the development: Rodolphus released Phoebe from the grip of the Imperius curse; his irritation at being interrupted by his wife replaced by his approval for the vile suggestion: and Phoebe regained her awareness of her surroundings with a moan and gasp.

Voldemort stared malevolently at the woman then shifted the menacing look across each of his follower's faces quickly, ending with his gaze fixed back on Bellatrix.

"Take the child!" he ordered pitilessly.

Severus' face drained at the announcement; the hope of his chance of getting close enough to Phoebe before she was seriously hurt disintegrating in the horror.

Bellatrix cackled gleefully, leering at her impending victim.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, "Assist me."

The nervous teenager, ashen faced, appeared beside his aunt. "Aunt Bella?" he queried, confused.

As if by magic, and quite possibly so, Bellatrix Lestrange produced a sharp, glittering blade and held it out for the boy to take.

"I'll hold her down… _you_ will do the cutting," she callously ordered, a cruel smirk pulling at her lips; she thrust the knife into his hands and took a looming step toward the Muggle woman beckoning the teen with her.

Severus breathed in and out; almost rooted to the spot with the combined effects of horror, revulsion and dismay. But he had _no_ plan, and no leeway in which to act… he didn't know what to do. Pure indecision kept him in his place to prevent him from betraying his charade of ignorance to give himself more time.

Instantly though, as Bellatrix made the threatening steps toward her, Phoebe cried out in terror, the full impact of the words being spoken around her had hit her like a ton of bricks.

"No! NO… please, PLEASE! Somebody help me! You can't… please… NO!" she screamed as Bellatrix and Rodolphus both seized her by the shoulders at once. She sobbed and shrieked in fear.

Wormtail had taken a few small steps closer and was almost upon the woman, and Severus' panic showed clearly upon his face. But Draco hadn't moved; he was terrified and horrified beyond movement.

"I can't…" he was chanting softly, "I can't do this."

Bellatrix, fury contorting her deranged features, screeched to the teenager, "You _have_ to! It is time, Draco… we have waited long enough! It is time for your first _kill_!"

Draco looked around frantically; searching for an ally who would step in to prevent the furthering of his Death Eater education against his will. His eyes glanced over the ring of Death Eaters… pausing on Severus' distraught face; knowing instantly that help could not come from that avenue this time. He continued to search, panic-stricken.

"I can't…" he repeated, and his pleading gaze landed on his father. "P-Please…" he stammered.

After a hard gaze, Lucius turned to his sister-in-law. "He is but a boy, Bellatrix… this is too much to ask," he stated, picking out the Dark Lord amongst the witnesses, "Forgive my son, My Lord… he is young."

Voldemort nodded, though continued to glare malevolently, "Draco will prove his loyalty in time… it is not necessary to traumatise the child."

Bellatrix screeched furiously again, abruptly summoning the blade from Draco's loose grip. Rodolphus pushed and held Phoebe roughly down on the ground as Bellatrix loomed menacingly above her with the knife gleaming in her hand and she amplified her desperate and frantic screams.

"NO! NO… Help, please, don't let them… SEVERUS!" she screamed suddenly in terror; he froze as all eyes flicked from Phoebe to him… the silence, bar Phoebe's sobs, was deafening.

'Time's up!' was the dark man's only thought.

The Dark Lord stepped forward holding his hand up for Rodolphus and Bellatrix to halt and for Wormtail to deliver the woman to his feet. They each complied in mere moments. The rat-like man stood guard over the cowering and terrified woman; his hand resting on her shoulder holding her in position.

"Well, well, well… the turncoat is finally revealed," Voldemort intoned in his hissing inflection.

The evil wizard stopped several feet in front of the dark man, his wand held unconcernedly in his right hand.

"Severus, Severus… a _Muggle_? And not a particularly attractive one either. I confess to my… disappointment."

Severus said nothing; his mind concentrating on nothing but a finding a potential escape route. He kept his gaze focused at point on the other wizard's chest; and his peripheral vision sharp.

Phoebe, kneeling between the two men, wanted to scoff at the insult; pointing out her accuser was no oil painting, but she was riddled with pain and knew the remark would only get her served up another dose.

"And after you had gone to the trouble of proving your loyalty to me too; by murdering Albus Dumbledore… you had me convinced, Severus… well done!"

Severus remained still and his face passive; but his hand gripped tighter to his wand.

"So, was that… _difficult_, was it _painful_ to kill your friend?"

The dark man's eyes flicked up to his old master's; incensed by the taunting. After all, it had been devastating for Severus to have to kill the Headmaster.

"Not that _you'd_ know," spat Phoebe, her self-restraint failing, from the kneeling position near the ground, "friendship must be foreign to you!"

With a whip of Voldemort's wand Phoebe was writhing in pain, "Silence, _Muggle_!"

"Stop!" Severus blurted out, and amazingly Voldemort lifted the curse to study his adversary. Phoebe lay gasping for breath on the frozen ground.

"It is only me you want… I'm here, let her go!" he pleaded with as much dignity as he could maintain.

Phoebe sobs grew louder, "No," she rasped out.

Voldemort smirked nastily. "You can't save her… she _knows_ too much. Oh yes, Severus… I have seen what you shared with her! And on the contrary, I do want the child. You should be thanking me, Severus, I will grant your child a life... a power and control you could never aspire to as a reward for his _loyalty_." He gave Severus a questioning look, "The child _is_ yours isn't it?" he asked insultingly.

Severus didn't respond and the Dark Lord turned to Wormtail.

"Take the child!" he ordered to Bellatrix again and the dark haired woman and her husband moved toward Phoebe.

Pettigrew dragged the now protesting woman to an unsteady standing position and grasped her tightly to his chest to keep her on her feet.

"NOW!" bellowed Severus suddenly, flinging off a succession of curses at Bellatrix and Rodolphus and whatever other targets his aim could find before swiftly diving to his left. He knew better than to test his duelling skills one on one with the Dark Lord… he was the first to admit he would never be a match.

All of a sudden there came the roar of multiple Order members leaping from their hiding places and from under invisibility cloaks to begin their attack; shooting off curses and jinxes toward various opponents; the jets of light bouncing and flying through the air like a macabre fireworks display.

Pettigrew heaved himself and Phoebe behind the nearest broken pile of rubble that formed a small alcove as she screamed, bit and scratched in protest, though she was soon subdued by his restraining arms preventing further assault.

Death Eaters scattered quickly, targeted by Order members from more superior positions. Several were taken down immediately; joining Lupin's body in the centre of the courtyard: but many were able to find safety behind obstacles. Severus kept mobile unable to find shelter immediately. He continued to fire off curses and spells as he was able.

The Dark Lord screamed in livid fury retreating behind a large boulder he conjured in a split second and proceeded to lead a counter attack.

You will not leave here alive, Snape!" he shouted furiously. "Or your beloved Muggle will pay will every fibre of her being! You will not make a fool of me," he screamed ominously.

Chills tracked Severus' spine at the threat. He had to get Phoebe out of here!

He barely ducked a red jet of light that blazed past his ear and swore internally at himself to concentrate. He dodged and twisted, blocked and fired off as many spells as he could, gratified to see some hit their marks. Ten minutes later and the fighting was still raging in full force.

Another roar of fury burst into the ether and Severus flinched from the intense waves of magic that had suddenly shuddered through the air wondering what else had infuriated the Dark Lord to such extremes.

'Phoebe, where are you?' he thought frantically, recalling he'd last seen her with Pettigrew. 'Where has he taken you…? I have to get to you.' Severus scanned the area trying to find them. Then he saw Pettigrew's silhouette reach out from behind the large pile of rubble to the left of him and drag Draco behind it with him, Severus abruptly changed his direction to beeline for the makeshift bunker… but he never made it.

The dark man was hit full front in the gut by a vicious Fire-Infuser curse courtesy of the Dark Lord, which lifted him off his feet and threw him several metres across the yard where he landed heavily atop a pile of crumbling stone and steel, groaning loudly. His wand dislodged from his grasp when his body rolled off the mound and thumped to the ground on his side; the left side of his head bouncing jarringly off a slab of stone and a strange stinging pressure jabbed through his upper right leg as he landed. The polished length of ebony bounced well out of his reach in the snow behind and to the left of him.

Severus screamed out loudly when fiery pain as a result of the curse rocketed through his body and exited through his opened mouth with a rush of orange and red flames; taking his mind completely off his painful, awkward tumble to the rough ground. Moments later he drew in a huge breath of welcome cool night air and groaned in distress; his mouth, throat and gut red raw and paining horribly from the burning flames.

Somewhat dazed, he tried to roll out of sight as he became aware of his extremely open and vulnerable location, but his leg would not budge… he couldn't move his right leg!

In panic he first thought he might have damaged his spine on landing, but that theory was refuted when he realised he could discern more than his fair share of pain in his lower body – especially his upper right leg! He groaned again and tried a second time to move the limb… with no success.

"Merlin," he moaned at a whisper, "why can't I move?"

Severus lifted his aching head to try to see his leg when he caught a glimpse of the glistening, inch round metal rod rising about twelve inches from the ground… and he could see that his right leg was impaled upon it; the rod had torn straight through his clothing and extremity from a rear point of his inner thigh through to a forward point on his outer thigh!

"Ugh," he gasped, shocked at the devastation of his leg. He reached a hand down to feel the damage. Time suddenly caught up with him and intense, vivid pain began to lance through the injured limb, stealing his breath away. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to breathe; crying out in agony when his quadricep muscles clenched involuntarily.

He couldn't move, he couldn't get to Phoebe, he couldn't defend himself… he was a sitting duck literally pinned in place, just waiting for the Dark Lord to come and finish him off… he could do absolutely nothing about it. Shaking badly, Severus rested his head back to the pad of stone and closed his eyes in an effort to shut out the pain, the fighting that was continuing around him and the desolation he felt about his circumstances.

But he couldn't help the anguish building inside himself… he'd come so close to a taste of happiness finally; only to have it stripped away at the last moment.

Where was his salvation? Where was the promised one who would save him? He had been abandoned again to his fate!

He snapped open his eyes as he sensed a faint shadow of a figure fall over him and eyed the Dark Lord's gleefully malicious features as they leered down at him."

"You lose!" the evil wizard hissed imperiously to the dark man, raising his wand to eye level.

Severus could predict what the curse on the Dark Lord's lips would be before the wizard even uttered a sound and he fought not to close his eyes against the glow of green he knew was coming. He would not die a coward; he would stare death in the face and wear his pride gracefully as he fell with dignity into its loving arms.

But the dark man gulped in spite of himself as the wand began to drop…


	49. Chapter 49 Like Magic

_And here we are finally - an update... as always, sorry for the wait!_

_Blame it on my children, my husband, my housework... ah, who am I kidding... I'm just lazy sometimes... *sigh*_

_Anyway, this particular chapter has been in the planning for up to five years... I do hope I did my imagination justice. Basically this is the moment the whole fic was built around... hopefully it doesn't sound stupid, otherwise I might have to crawl into a hole and never come out..._

_Please do not forget to review - I need to know what you all think..._

_Now... What will happen to Severus, will he survive the fatal curse and become The Man Who Lived (oh how would he live that down?)... and what will become of Phoebe... do read on to find out!_

**Chapter 49** – _Like Magic_

Phoebe was dragged behind the stone alcove kicking and screaming against her captor when the battle had started. She even dared to scratch and bite Pettigrew: thinking that if only she could get out of his grasp then maybe both she and Severus had a chance of escaping.

But the short man, though weedy and weak looking, was far superior in strength than her – especially as she was heavily pregnant and now weakened further by over half an hour of torture and torment. Wormtail held her arms to her side and whispered in her ear to calm down.

Phoebe didn't want to comply, but another sharp pain deep in her pelvis gripped her and had her doubled over; groaning in agony.

They were contractions, she was sure… they were coming at fairly regular intervals now and were coming in waves; building quickly to a peak and then ebbing away.

Pettigrew's hand was rubbing comfortingly on her back, "Easy, Phoebe… breathe though it," he murmured encouragingly in her ear.

When this latest labour pain had mostly passed, Phoebe turned to her captor accusingly, adding these strangely caring actions to the unexpected gentleness and almost concerned advice she had experienced from Pettigrew earlier that evening.

"Who are you?!" she demanded, ninety percent sure that this man was not who he appeared to be.

Pettigrew sent a lopsided grin at her. "I'm not such a great actor after all then, am I," he said mysteriously. "Don't worry, Phoebe… My name is Remus Lupin, I'm with the Order… I'm with Severus," he reassured her with a nod.

Phoebe broke down immediately with relief, throwing herself at her rescuer; wrapping her arms around his neck and sobbing. "Oh, God… thank you! Thank you, Remus!"

"Shh," he said, patting her on the back again, "it's quite alright. Come on… look at me. Are you alright?" he asked, tugging her arms from around his neck so he could take a good look at her.

"I don't know… I don't think so, something's wrong, I think. It hurts… a lot!" she said, indicating low on her abdomen.

He nodded in understanding, "Yes… I know. You're bleeding… did you realise?"

Her expression was one of shock, "No… I didn't. Help me please!"

"Of course, I'll do what I can," he promised, before pushing her behind him slightly and, wand held aloft, ensuring they remained undiscovered in their hiding position.

Phoebe felt another ache begin to build in her pelvis. "Ow… Oh, God!" she moaned, blowing out and sucking in air hard through gritted teeth until the pain peaked.

"That's it… there you go," Lupin again encouraged as the pain began to dwindle.

"They're quite close," he noted aloud, a tinge of worry in his statement. "We'll have to get you out of here soon."

"Not without Severus, please!" she begged, imploring him with her desperate gaze.

He nodded again, "We'll do our best, alright."

Phoebe nodded along with him, "Okay," she agreed.

Suddenly Remus hunched over in apparent pain. "Ugh," he groaned.

"What's wrong?" Phoebe demanded, clutching at his wrist.

"It's okay," Lupin assured with a placating hand, gasping for breaths, "Poly-juice is wearing off, that's all."

"What?!" Phoebe cried, desperately concerned and not gaining a single clue from what the man had just apparently explained.

"I'm becoming _me_ again… it's alright…"

"Okay…" Phoebe huffed out, not really feeling at all soothed. She let his wrist drop and shuffled away a little, watching the transformation taking place before her; horrified, yet too fascinated to turn away from the nauseating scene of skin bubbling and stretching of limbs, with bones and cartilage shifting and audibly clinking into place.

Remus sucked in several deep breaths at the end of the alteration of his appearance. He looked toward his ashen faced witness, "You alright?" he asked.

"Uh huh… you, Remus?" she answered warily to the new 'person' crouching before her.

He nodded, "Believe me, I've been through much worse transformations," he huffed cryptically.

Suddenly the air, already filled with the fierce sounds of battle, echoed with the furious roar of the Dark Lord. Phoebe, instantly losing her wariness for Lupin's new appearance, huddled close to him as waves of intense power crackled through the air. He held her tight and they both expelled shuddering breaths and searched the space around them for any threat.

"I'd say You-Know-Who has just discovered Wormtail," he stated, somewhat sadly. "He was one of my best friends at school, you know."

"I'm sorry," Phoebe said gently.

Lupin gazed at her. "It's okay… he wasn't the same person I grew up with… I barely recognised him in the end."

They were both silent for several moments; deep in thought.

Phoebe broke the silence first; moaning at another pain swelling to a crescendo. But before it had time to ebb away, Lupin had left her side momentarily to reach out and grab the wide-eyed, blonde, teenaged boy ducking and weaving the battle outside their small sanctuary. Draco Malfoy yelped in surprise as he had his wand plucked from his fingers and was yanked to cover inside the low alcove.

"Draco! Easy… it's alright, lad. You don't belong here, I know... let me help you!"

Draco stared uneasily at the man who he'd witnessed die. "H-How?" he stammered, disbelieving what his eyes were seeing. "I s-saw you die!"

"Poly-juice," Remus said, and unlike Phoebe, Draco seemed to understand at once, she noticed.

"Who th-then?" he asked.

"Wormtail."

"Oh…" There was silence for a moment, "I never liked him much," Draco finally stated, staring at the hard, cold ground.

Lupin eyed the boy for a bit longer, but once he was satisfied the teen really seemed no threat he turned his attention to Phoebe.

"Come Phoebe… we've got to get you out of here." He reached down to help her to her feet, though they remained stooped over so they wouldn't be seen.

"Ow… it hurts!" she whimpered, nearly slipping back to her knees.

Draco seemed to only just now notice the second occupant of the stone alcove. He stared at her for several moments while Remus soothed the distressed, pregnant Muggle.

"I couldn't do it, I couldn't take your baby… but not for the reasons you might think," he whispered aloud suddenly.

Phoebe snapped her eyes up to his, listening to the boy's explanations, alarmed at his slightly cold and apparently detached candour.

He swallowed visibly, "Professor Snape has been good to me… more than I deserved, I think… I couldn't do that to him."

Phoebe continued to stare at the blonde. "He made a good decision then, didn't he? You were worth it."

Remus looked impressed with the teen, "Good lad, Draco, he will be pleased and proud to know that of you… keep it up," he said, nodding his head in approval, reaching out and ruffling the teen's hair briefly. "Come on then, let's go." Lupin held out the teenager's wand to him, and Draco took it after a moment of hesitation, stunned at the trust implied.

After glancing carefully around, the three carefully made a break for another wall several meters away, yet closer to the boundary wards. Phoebe could not run, so it was a nerve wracking minute whilst she limped awkwardly with assistance toward the next shelter. Phoebe could make out various Order members vaguely through the dark as they popped up to fire off another round of curses at the Death Eaters, ensconced on the opposite side of the compound, with their wands. And then she heard a terrible shriek of pain off to her right.

"Severus…?" she whispered aloud and scrambled off toward the scream automatically.

"No! Phoebe…" But Remus could not catch her before he was rained upon by a series of spells from his left; causing him to seek cover immediately.

Draco slid to the ground and out of the line of sight; wriggling on his belly toward a medium sized boulder.

Phoebe ploughed on into the dark to her right… alone. She stumbled blindly in the direction of the desperate sound that she instinctively felt came from the father of her unborn child. A flare shot into the sky from across the compound and lit the area brightly enough for her to make out a dark form prone on the ground ahead of her beside a tall mound of rubble.

The figure, apparently trying to right himself, suddenly cried out in agony and Phoebe quickened her step as fast as she could given she was suffering with her own injuries, until she discerned another presence in her peripheral vision stalking toward the fallen man. She halted, terrified and unsure; her eyes wide with horror and alarm. The Dark Lord was almost upon him and she immediately scoured her surroundings for something – _anything_ – to help!

Suddenly she spied a stick lying in the snow several feet from her. A dark, sleek polished length of timber… a _wand_… _Severus'_ wand!

Instantly Phoebe knew she had to get to it. She had to somehow get it to Severus so he could defend himself… but she was still so far away from it… and him! And already the Dark Lord was looming over the man; the pale and strained features of Severus Snape glaring defiantly up into the malevolent expression smeared on the ugly tyrant's face. And again the stirrings of a labour pain blossomed within the Muggle woman's abdomen.

Voldemort raised his wand and after whispering something Phoebe could not quite make out, his wand hand began its downward motion…

"Avada Keda-" screeched the foul wizard.

"Nooo!" screamed Phoebe, scrambling for the wand; moving faster than she thought possible. She reached out and lurched forwards, crashing into the snow onto her knees, scooping the instrument up with a handful of icy slush.

The Dark Lord, distracted by her shriek, did not finish the fatal phrase and in the next few seconds Phoebe's mind furiously tried to discern how she could deliver the wand to Severus before he could attempt it again on either of them.

The evil fiend had turned his attention to her now, confident that the pinned, unarmed spy was no threat. His features were screwed up in an ugly, furious snarl, but as he identified the enemy that had dared interrupt him he began to chuckle in a horrible, menacing manner that caused the tiny hairs on the back of Phoebe's neck to rise.

"And what are you going to do with _that_ then, _Muggle_?" he hissed venomously and continued to mock her with dreadful chuckles.

The pain in her lower abdomen swelled to its crescendo and she tried hard to ignore it, but ultimately she was overcome and screwed her eyes up, hissing breaths through her gritted teeth, moaning in agony and defeat… the wand lying uselessly across her own palm.

SSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOC

Severus whipped his head around as Phoebe screamed out, feeling both eternally grateful and yet desperately distraught at the knowledge that she had come to his aid. The Dark Lord immediately disregarded him in favour of the new threat, but at the sound of the vicious wizard's mirth Severus' skin prickled in dread.

"And what are you going to do with _that_ then, _Muggle_?" Severus heard the Dark Lord hiss.

"No, Phoebe… run," he whispered pleadingly into the air. But she did not run, she was kneeling in the snow off to his left and from what he could see, gripped in pain.

"Watch her suffer, Severus… all because of you," Voldemort crooned from above, and Severus turned back to face him.

"Please… please, don't," he begged, knowing it was useless but feeling compelled to try all the same. "Do what you want to me… but please-"

"Oh, I intend to, Severus… but you cannot save her, I have already told you that. However, as for the child, Severus… perhaps I will spare the child, I may have a use for it."

Voldemort raised his wand and directed it at the kneeling Muggle woman, "Crucio!"

When Phoebe screamed in agony Severus felt a surge of adrenaline flood his veins and he fought furiously to dislodge his pinned leg, but to no avail, all he managed was to cause himself more pain to the point he almost blacked out. He ended up with his arm curled around his head, huffing shallow breaths and pleading to a higher entity for mercy for them both.

SSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOC

As the curse was lifted Phoebe had a hard time regaining her bearings, but she fought against her spinning head to push herself to her feet… the wand still enclosed in her palm. The snow within her grasp had melted and she could now feel the thrumming of the wand's power, far more prominent than it had been the last time she had held Severus' wand many months ago.

"Let us go!" she demanded, holding the faux weapon out in front of her toward the tyrant. A voice somewhere deep in her mind reminded her she was acting absurdly, but at this point she had no care.

He chuckled perversely once more. "I don't think so," flicking his own wand briefly at Phoebe. "Be a good little Muggle and wait your turn… _Crucio_," he said mildly, with a smirk.

This time she managed to stay on her feet… though barely, as the waves of pain rolled through her. She shrieked out again, and though this taste of the curse was fairly mild, by the time she could refocus on the evil wizard he was again leaning over Severus, raising his wand to cast at him.

"It's over," he crooned nastily. "Avada…"

The buzz of power in Phoebe's wand reached an almost epic proportion and looking back on it later Phoebe could not begin to imagine _why_ she had attempted to do it, why she had even thought she could… but she had.

She flung back her wand arm, bent at the elbow, and instantly recalling the impromptu spell casting lesson Severus had given her from what seemed like eons ago, she threw her arm forward in an arc toward the Dark Lord.

With the passion and sincerity she had rarely felt for anything else in her life, she bellowed, "Ex-peliarmus!"

Beginning in her centre, a powerful surge of energy forced its way up through her body and was channelled into the outstretched wand. And the surge of red light that flowed from the wand tip astounded her as much as anyone.

The streak of red smashed into Voldemort's side and his wand was ripped from his grasp and soared in an arc through the air to land at Phoebe's feet. The evil wizard was blasted several meters and landed awkwardly in a humiliating heap.

Too stunned to do anything else, Phoebe stepped forward, placing her foot on the tyrant's lost wand, keeping Severus' now strangely dormant wand trained on the monster's heaped form. Instinctually she knew she could do no more with it… the magic was gone, but she could not afford to alert the fiend to that fact.

Another pain started deep in her pelvis and abruptly she felt her waters break and gush down her legs to puddle at her feet.

Shocked and in pain she sought and found Severus' gaze.

He was staring gobsmacked at her, confusion and shock plastered on his own features, but when she groaned and wrapped her arm around her midriff he reacted at last.

"Phoebe… come!" he commanded, beckoning her with his hand.

She stumbled over to him and collapsed into his arms as the members of the Order of the Phoenix surged past them towards the Dark Lord. He had regained his feet, and with a swoop of his arms repelled the attackers with a fan of flames from his hands. With another small movement, his wand wriggled and leapt from the snow where it had been trodden in and flew into the evil wizard's waiting hand. After another flick of his wrist the wards preventing Apparition fell with a palpable sigh of energy, and Lord Voldemort spun on the spot and vanished in a swirl of black robes.

Phoebe was now sobbing into Severus' shoulder and he was doing his best to soothe her in his current condition. Truth be told, he was failing fast, blood loss being his greatest issue.

"Phoebe… you need to go… go somewhere safe, get help… I can't move."

She looked up at him then gently pressed his wand into his hand, glancing briefly at his mangled leg. "Oh, God… Severus… does it hurt much?"

His head was spinning and instead of reassuring her with a white lie he merely screwed his eyes closed and nodded.

Phoebe looked up; there was no-one else in the immediate vicinity. All the Order members had rushed to apprehend as many Death Eaters as they could before they too Disapparated.

"What can I do?" she asked, smoothing a hand over his cheek.

He opened his eyes. "Nothing! Just go… get out of here… please!"

Another pain gripped her abdomen… they were nearly on top of one another now, and she knew he was right. This baby was coming… _now_, and being only thirty weeks along she also knew he would need expert care after he was born.

She closed her eyes and breathed through the pain.

"I need someone to take you… who can you see?"

Phoebe was too overwhelmed by the contraction to respond, but she knew that everyone was occupied at the moment… well almost everyone…

"I'll take her," came a young voice.

"Draco?" Severus said in surprise.

"Sir. I'll do it… I'll take her for you."

The dark man eyed the boy for a long time. "I can trust you?" he asked, suspicion and doubt laced in his tone.

"Yes… I am grateful for all you have done for me lately. I want to get out… help me… please," he said, the desperation in his voice more than obvious.

Draco did sound sincere… and in fact Severus had known for a long time that the teenager had wanted out of the situation he had got himself into with the Dark Lord. But could he test the boy's loyalty on Phoebe and his unborn child's welfare?

Phoebe moaned beside him. "Ah… God, Severus… there's another one," she gasped, succumbing to the grip of pain, barely ten seconds since the last has dissipated.

He made up his mind… if Phoebe stayed here any longer, she would be putting her life at risk anyway… and the child was already in jeopardy… if in fact he were even still alive after the trauma of the last hour or two. He had to trust that Draco meant what he said.

"Go… take her. Take her to Madam Pomfrey at Hogwarts," he said to the boy. But before the teenager could move away, Severus grabbed a hold on his sleeve. "Please, Draco…" he said, unable to finish the sentence that would pass all his trust over to the young Death Eater. He instead implored the boy with his gaze.

"It's okay… you can trust me, I swear," he stated, nodding his assurance.

Severus nodded and let the teen go.

"Go," he whispered to Phoebe, "I'll be right behind you… go!" He pushed her away from him lightly as Draco pulled her to her feet.

After another nod from Severus, Draco took a now sobbing Phoebe in his arms, spun on the spot and Disapparated, leaving Severus to agonise over his decision just as Fred Weasley skid to his knees at his side.


	50. Chapter 50 One More Push

**_Thankyou for all reviews... I will be responding... just wanted to get this done first, I know you will all appreciate that ;)_**

**_Wow - this is a quick update for me... who woulda thought me capable? *chuckle* As I'm heading down the final straight with this fic I shall probably focus solely on this until it is done... then I shall work on the others I currently have going..._**

**_Most readers expressed relief that both Severus and Phoebe were out of the drama, but believe me, they both still have a tough time of it ahead... read on to see how I tortured them this update... *evil grin*_**

**_Do review... they are the highlight of my days... :D *waves to all readers who haven't said Hi yet...* Hope you do this time! *kiss, kiss*_**

**Chapter 50** – _One More Push_

"Snape!" Fred exclaimed, as his eyes roved over the fallen man. They became wide with horror as they fixed on Severus' impaled leg. "Merlin…" was all that the late teen was able to express.

"What do I do?" he asked, desperate for guidance, his hand hanging uncertainly over the damaged leg.

"Don't touch!" Severus bit out in frantic panic, already fraught with pain and scared he couldn't bare much more. He held up a discouraging hand until the Weasley twin nodded his head and lowered his hand in compliance.

The dark man huffed out a sigh, moaned softly and flung his arm over his eyes; hot tears were welling ominously and threatening to spill over and his breathing was becoming erratic. He'd managed, against all odds, to get Phoebe out of the clutches of the Dark Lord, with comparatively minimal damage considering the peril they had been in, and his incredible success was just beginning to register; dragging down the protective Occlumency walls designed to hide his emotions as well as his memories.

His tight reign on his emotions and reactions was further being weakened by the injuries and the predicament he now found himself. Add on top of that the worry of whether he had just plucked Phoebe from one crisis and handed her on a silver platter to yet _another_… well, he was precariously teetering on the pinnacle of breaking point.

Severus was well aware someone would have to touch is leg eventually… _soon _actually, if only to dislodge the rod of steel, but he wasn't ready just yet.

'Not yet,' his mind insisted. He felt his limbs begin to tremble, and as a result of all the pain, blood loss and stress he could feel himself going into shock… right now all he wanted was this day to be over.

He swallowed, antagonising the burns in the back of his mouth and down his throat, he moaned again, lifting his other hand to clasp at his neck. But midway through its path it was intercepted by another cool hand that clasped tightly around his, pulling it close to a warm, soft body.

"Severus. Hold on… you'll be fine," a gentle, feminine voice reassured.

He allowed the arm covering his eyes to slip upwards over the top of his head and he glimpsed a look at the owner of the voice.

"Nymphadora," he acknowledged with a tired whisper.

She huffed, "I've told you so many times I prefer _Tonks_… why must you always be antagonistic?" she accused, with a soft glare.

He stared back at her, his eyes transferring his internal vulnerability in a rare display. "It's prettier… it suits you better," he admitted, and her jaw abruptly dropped in surprise.

After several moments where she just gaped back at him, she suddenly moved her free hand to his hairline, brushing back a few stray dark strands that had stuck to the sheen of sweat covering his face. She huffed in vague amusement, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You must be delirious… no one would believe me if I told them what you'd just said. I'm not sure _I _even heard it now."

Severus closed his eyes in an effort to reign in the wayward emotions… he'd realised in that moment just how open he had allowed himself to become. And anyway, he was so tired… and dizzy.

"Where's Phoebe?" he heard Tonks query.

"Gone," he muttered hopelessly. "Either being delivered to help… or already dead… probably the _latter_… he might be sincere… I don't know," he continued to mumble, slowly draining of what little euphoria and hope his earlier miracle had evoked and his concentration slipping along with every millilitre of crimson fluid that continued to trickle from his impaled leg.

"What? What do you mean… Severus!" Tonks shook his shoulder firmly, forcing him to open his eyes. He frowned at her, but couldn't decide if he was confused at her reaction, or simply angry.

"Where _is_ she… where has Phoebe gone?!"

'Oh,' Severus thought, his mind snapping back into focus.

"With Draco… I sent her away with Draco… Hogwarts… Poppy," he tried to explain.

"What!" Tonks exclaimed, she shook his shoulder again. "Are you _mad_… what the hell were you thinki-"

Severus' eyes went wide with anxiety, acknowledging his own growing doubt about his decision.

"No… it's alright, Tonks. Severus, she'll be _fine_… Draco will come through for you… he feels indebted to you, he told me so earlier," a voice to the dark man's right assured firmly. Severus twisted his neck in that direction and made out the hazy form of Remus Lupin leaning critically over his injured leg. He squinted to try to force his eyes to focus better, blinking repeatedly when his vision appeared not to improve.

Lupin leaned over to gaze at him. "Severus?"

"Dizzy," was all his mind could come up with to say. Lupin turned away.

"Arthur, we have to do something quickly… he's losing blood fast."

There were several people kneeling around him now… but Severus was barely coherent of the fact. Urgent voices floated above him and his eyelids fluttered and closed.

"Tonks." he heard Lupin say.

Cool hands tapped him lightly on the cheek. "Severus, stay awake for me… come on."

Severus forced his eyes open once more and drew in a deep breath, his breathing had become quite shallow and in a moment of clear thought he recognised his symptoms of severe blood loss. He found his strong will deep within himself and fought them a bit harder.

Tonk's face moved in front of his, her hand still cradling his cheek, her other hand clasped around his again. "Concentrate on me," she told him.

He felt hands fumbling and tugging painfully around his pinned leg and let out a groan. A male voice chanted out a vaguely familiar incantation and his leg suddenly fell to the side but ignited in pain as the limb was caught by deft hands. His eyes rolled upwards and he fought hard to remain conscious.

"No, Severus… here… _me_," Nymphadora demanded. He focused back on her intense gaze. He was shaking very badly now, breathing quick shallow breaths through gritted teeth.

"Nearly there, Severus," he heard Remus encourage. "Hold him tight, Dora," he then whispered to the witch Severus was all but clinging to.

Severus whimpered a small, apprehensive sound and the woman grasped him around his shoulders.

"It's going to be okay… trust me." She nodded to him and he found himself emulating her. He closed his eyes and she moved even closer until her cheek was resting against his.

Her lips whispered in his ear, her soft breaths tickling his skin as they brushed over the side of his face and neck. "You know, I never got the chance before… but… thank you, Severus… thank you for saving my life… and saying I am no fool, even though you thought I couldn't hear you."

He hitched an emotional breath and grasped her hand tighter. Firm hands grasped onto his injured leg, positioning it straight. He tensed automatically.

"Shh, just relax," Tonks whispered, stroking his fingers with her thumb. "And another thing… thank you, Severus… for saying I am 'pretty'."

His lips quirked momentarily in amusement and he forced himself to expel a deep breath and relax a little. "You're welcome… for all three," he replied in a shaky, quiet voice.

Then she unexpectedly kissed him softly on his temple and he felt suddenly at peace, sighing softly and letting go of his remaining tension.

Arthur and Remus watched as Tonks whispered something they couldn't make out to Snape and felt the man relax slightly. And moments later Remus felt the wizard's leg muscle relax even further and he gave a small nod to Arthur and Fred.

The Weasley patriarch reaffirmed his grasp on the rod of steel and with one fluid movement, yanked it from the flesh in which it was buried.

The sound Severus made as the thick length of steel was ripped from his leg was horrendous and gut-wrenching; Tonks nearly lost it herself, and she had a hard time holding him still.

"It's over… it's done. Just healing now, Severus," she crooned over and over to him until she thought he could actually hear her and he'd started to settle down. He was openly sobbing and mumbling quietly, and the witch tried all she could to soothe the distraught dark man.

"Is that enough… is that enough… can I stop now?" he begged desperately.

"Of course… yes… of cours-" she told him, but an achingly familiar, young voice interrupted.

"No, not yet… I'm sorry, but I need you to do something first!"

Severus stopped whimpering immediately and took several deep, calming breaths before he spoke.

"What, Potter…? _What_?" he whispered the question despairingly.

The teenager came down to his knees alongside the prone man and whispered. "The cup, I can't get past the barrier on the stairs, but you… I need you… you have the mark…

The dark man held the teenager's gaze for some time without saying anything. This boy with the green eyes like his kind mother, but the features of his father that Severus loathed so much… but still, the face that he would once done _anything_ to help in order to defeat the evil wizard that had ruined both their lives.

Severus nodded. "Yes… I have the mark... but rarely has that been a good thing!

"But today it _is _a good thing… for all of us."

Severus swallowed hard still fighting off emotions and pain.

"Do you have the key from around Pettigrew's neck?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," the teenager replied, and he leaned in closer to talk even more privately. "I have the key and we found the missing locket too. RAB - Regulus… you were right! Only one to go after the cup… just one last push… help me, please."

"One more? Just one more?" Severus verified, almost afraid to ask.

Potter nodded. "Yes… one more," he promised.

Severus nodded. "Yes… I shall retrieve the cup for you." He turned to Arthur Weasley who was watching the exchange in confusion. "How well can you fix my leg for now? I need to walk on it."

Draco stumbled upon Apparating onto the deserted lane and he almost dragged Phoebe down with him, but fortunately managed to regain his footing in time.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "I haven't done that with a 'side along' before."

Phoebe figured she was supposed to have understood what the blonde teenager had just said, but she hadn't a clue. Besides, she was far too preoccupied with the severe contractions that were barely giving her a rest, so she just nodded as if she had comprehended.

"Come on… you don't look too good," he said, guiding her in the right direction.

Draco expressed surprise when the gates opened for them without him even bidding them to… as if they sensed the urgency of the odd pair, comprising of a Muggle and Death Eater, approaching the gates.

The path into Hogwarts seemed to go on forever, even with Draco pushing her onwards when she tried to stop at the height of every contraction. She leaned more heavily on him each time, and just when she thought she couldn't bare any more and was sobbing in despair she felt a distinct change in her pains.

"Oh, God… I think I have to push."

"What!?" the teen blurted, panicking; pulling Phoebe along the path way faster.

Phoebe grunted as her pelvic muscles beared down automatically.

"No, don't push… not yet, not here!" Draco exclaimed.

"I can't help it," Phoebe sobbed. "Stop, please."

"No… look, we're almost there… there is the doors. Come on."

He practically dragged her up the few steps to the large double oak doors waving his wand at them to open. Another contraction started before the pervious one had fully finished and that's when Phoebe knew she was out of time.

As they approached the foot of the stairs she had once sat upon waiting for Severus she felt the child move downward in the birth canal as her body gave an almighty push. One glance up at the extensive staircase and she knew she would never make it to the top.

"The baby is coming… it's here… the baby's here now," she cried, hitching up the burgundy robes and reaching one hand between her legs to feel for the baby's head, grasping the balustrade with the other.

Wide eyed and obviously terrified, Draco stalled on the bottom step. He reached up around his neck and unfastened his velvet robes and swung them off his shoulders. With another flick of his wrist he spread the garment onto the floor at the foot of the stairs and gestured for Phoebe to sink to her knees onto them.

"I'll get help," he said before he turned away up the stairs.

"No… don't leave me," she cried out, gesturing for Draco to come back, but the teen just glanced back briefly.

"I won't be long… I'll get help."

"No… Draco!" Phoebe wailed, "Don't leave me here by myself." But the blonde boy had bolted up the steps and was now out of sight.

Phoebe sobbed hysterically as another contraction came on, her worst fear of having to give birth on her own imminent. Her body led her in the pushing and she began to breathe deep breaths and grunted out loud as she tensioned all her muscles to the task.

She whimpered weakly as the contraction ebbed away and reached her hand between her legs again. This time she could definitely feel her infant's head right there under her fingers. She quickly worked her underwear down past her knees and slid out one leg, preparing for the emergence of her child.

Another pain began to build and this time she went with her body, pushing hard as soon as the urge came on. With a guttural, primitive grunt and one final push the infant slid from her body with a gush of fluids and was guided onto the velvet covered floor by her hand where it lay unmoving and seemingly lifeless.

Exhausted, weak and shaky, Phoebe reached out and nudged her baby gently with the back of her fingers. "Please…" she whispered, before her world began to tilt oddly as her vision greyed.

Phoebe was barely aware of someone catching her before she hit the ground and the white blur of a person scooping her infant up from the floor and whisking it away before darkness engulfed her…


	51. Chapter 51 Nurtured by the Light

**_I am pleased to offer another chapter... _**

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**_Please read on to find out how Severus and Phoebe are faring... _**

**Chapter 51** – _Nurtured by the Light_

Arthur shook his head, "I don't know, Severus… I'm no expert. I can hopefully stop the bleeding, but I'm afraid much more than that might be beyond me."

Remus Lupin and the Weasley twin - Severus hadn't bothered to ascertain which one yet - each had a painful, tight grasp around his damaged leg, putting pressure on the wounds to hamper further blood loss, while Arthur prepared to cast healing spells.

Severus shuddered lightly, gritting his teeth; trying hard to retain his composed façade. He really did not want to fight in this war any longer… but his role had apparently not ended yet, and he could not condone giving up _this close_ to the Order's goals. His loyalties had finally been revealed quite definitively, and Severus wished to give no reason for any doubt from those he openly labelled 'allies' now. He could feel an unexpected, yet definitely tangible solidarity with those around him; those who had supported him throughout this ordeal… and he found he _liked_ the feeling immensely and he didn't want to lose it now!

Tonks nudged Potter aside to resume her role of support. "Severus… no-one would blame you… you don't have to do this," she argued emotionally. Having just been so close to the dark man; witnessing so intimately such a disturbing, heart-wrenching moment of pain and vulnerability, she was inclined to feel compassion for the man and had a desire to liberate him from further suffering.

Severus turned to her voice. "No… Potter's right… it has to be retrieved _now_," he admitted, huskily; the previous exertion on his throat now taking its toll, "before the Dark Lord has a chance to get to it… and _I am_ the only one who can get through the barrier."

"Can you not just summon it… whatever _it_ is?" she asked, her tone coloured with what sounded like sincere concern.

"I _tried_ already…" Potter interjected with annoyed frustration.

Severus nodded lightly in confirmation. "No, the Dark Lord is not foolish; he will have protected it with the assistance of a number of wards," Severus enlightened, his voice hoarse and throat painful.

Severus hissed an intake of breath softly in response to something that was being done to his injured lower half. His eyes crinkled in pain. But he was aware enough to notice Potter's reaction… the boy, after flicking his gaze down to the wizards working on the injured leg, promptly drained in colour. If Severus had been capable at the moment he would have smirked disbelievingly at the teen's apparent empathy… or perhaps it was pity. Either way, Severus could not share his thoughts; he was too overwhelmed with his predicament to spare Potter any further consideration or retort.

Tonks rubbed a hand along his forearm that was resting over his middle. "You're doing well, Severus… keep your mind on us… here," she reminded gently, tapping her own chest lightly. Severus obeyed her direction; meeting her eyes in an intense gaze laced with a hint of pleading and fear, for in that act of acquiesce he found himself giving a little of his control over to the young woman; he was now relying on her guidance to help him cope… something he recognised he wasn't doing too well at on his own right now.

At that moment Arthur snapped out a frustrated comment from his position by Severus' leg. "I can't _see_ properly… help me tear away the material… and I need someone to get some more light in here!" he bid his assistants. A couple of the bystanders immediately ignited their wands and stepped closer so their beams of light might fall more helpfully.

The subsequent jostling of his leg caused Severus to gasp and moan in pain, his hand tightening into a tense fist. Tonks took his fist in hers, gently pried open his hand and worked hers into it instead, squeezing supportively. He reflexively squeezed hers back, scrunching closed his eyes and blowing out slow shuddering breaths to focus on pushing though the pain.

"Let's not worry about those now, Harry… how about we let Snape get through this first," Severus heard Nymphadora suggest in a firm tone. The boy must have heeded Tonk's request, for when Severus re-opened his eyes the teen was not in his range of sight. Severus was unmeasurably grateful as he was struggling enough with this whole ordeal without having the Potter brat ogling him in his weakness.

"Okay there?" she asked him worriedly.

He responded automatically with an affirmative hum and a tight nod. He felt cold, shaky, drained and imagined he must appear very pale, so when Lupin asked him the same question several moments later he was not terribly surprised.

"Close your eyes and rest, Severus… Tonks will watch out for you," he suggested. She nodded to him, confirming she would be there for him.

Severus gladly obliged and moments later he felt a warming charm flood over his torso. He knew the effects would not last long; he was lying on the frozen ground with drifts of snow piled amongst the cold stone after all, so he just endeavoured to be grateful for the sensation for now. He made a small noise of appreciation that Tonks acknowledged with a light pat on his shoulder.

Severus tried to relax and focus on the woman present at his side, sensing her form crouched beside him and imagining her intense attention centred on him. The sound of her soft breaths lulled him deeper into his meditation and she, probably unknowingly, tapped a very light rhythm with her thumb upon the back of his hand.

"Keep an eye on his breathing… it already seems too shallow," he vaguely heard Remus whisper to the witch watching over him.

"Sure," she answered. "Remus, can we give him any potions?" Tonks requested quietly from her neighbour.

"Arthur?" Remus went on to ask the other man's opinion.

The Weasley patriarch lifted his head from his concentration on Severus' leg momentarily to nod. "Get someone to do the rounds and collect what they can find… Merlin knows he could do with a _Blood Replenisher_ at least," he said, indicating to the copious amounts of deep red fluid staining the scene.

"Ron?!" Tonks called out. The teen reluctantly approached.

"Go round and collect any potions that the others might have. _Blood Replenisher_ especially… and something for _pain_… get Harry to help… go!"

With closed eyes Severus listened distantly to all this with an odd sense of detachment; as if it was somebody else they were talking about. He began languidly attempting to re-erect his Occlumency shields so he could thrust the pain and torment behind it and regain some control. But he was having trouble concentrating enough, his mind was foggy and loose and he just didn't have the strength to force his mind to focus to the degree that was required and consequently memories began to swirl unchecked.

Memories of the dark haired teen suddenly floated unbidden to the forefront of his mind. He fixed on one… examining it briefly… the topic permeating his thoughts in his meditation.

_Potter_ had not long informed him he still had _work_ to do; he had to retrieve Hufflepuff's cup from beyond the Death Eater barrier up inside the tower…

Severus had told the boy he would help, he would do his part, but _now_ he wasn't quite sure how he was going to achieve that, he was very badly hurt, he knew… in a lot of pain…

The dark man tried to focus once more… to force his mind to work… _Shield_! _Block the pain_! But again he failed and a fleeting flurry of doubts that his Occlumency skills would be enough to get him through this time drowned his previous train of thought...

Overwhelmed, yet now oddly liberated, his mind now wandered from the current topic far too easily, shifting to consider another memory swirling to the surface… _potions_… the _potions _that had just been appealed for by the witch hovering above him.

_Pain potion_ and _Blood Replenisher_… 'I _should_ have my _own _supply on my person!' he admonished himself groggily. Was he a Potions Master or wasn't he?!

'Merlin, I could use that pain potion right now though,' he thought as his leg was jolted again. His breaths hastened dramatically and he whimpered softly and the hand that was holding his squeezed harder in support.

"Easy, Severus," Tonks' whisper echoed abstractly to him. He felt a small, cool hand smooth back his hair from his moist forehead, bringing him more present instantly.

Severus' more sentient thoughts turned to wishing that the supportive hand belonged to Phoebe… that _she _was here with him, whispering the soothing words in his ear, telling him it was going to be alright. Not that what Tonks was doing was unappreciated… but, well… she wasn't '_his_'…

'Phoebe…'

He suddenly wondered how shewas… whether she had made it to Madam Pomfrey yet, and what of the child? Phoebe had been having quite intense and close labour pains when Draco had Apparated away with her… Severus doubted Poppy was going to be able to halt the birth; even with magic at her disposal there was only so much she could do. Severus realised he probably ought to brace himself for bad news regarding the infant, but he did not want to face that devastation right now: he swept the hurt aside and replaced the feeling with emptiness, and his mind drifted on.

As his thoughts danced sporadically around the topic of Phoebe he remembered the incident with the Dark Lord. She had disarmed him… with _magic_! Using Severus' wand!

Or so it had appeared.

'How could that have happened? What did that mean? Was she a Witch after all? No… she was just a Muggle, a pregnant Muggle at that… wasn't she… isn't she? She started out as a Muggle, didn't she… she might have changed…?'

He vaguely knew his thoughts were no longer making much sense and had dimmed slightly, and now only vaguely formed ideas filtered through the fog in his mind. He languidly tried to grasp a more tangible hold on the memories and feelings that floated just out of reach, but the indistinct swirl was agreeably serene.

The vague sentiments continued to wash over him. Severus didn't understand how Phoebe could have performed magic… how an assumed Muggle could summon the powers of his kind. But it could stay a phenomenon for all he cared… it didn't matter to him that he had no answers anyway! All that did matter was that Phoebe and the child somehow had saved his life… in a moment when he thought all hope was lost. Contrary to his previous experiences he now understood that _this_ was really Dumbledore's prophesised moment. The notion was incredible… surreal…

He felt an overwhelming gratitude to Phoebe roll comfortingly over him… and a certain appreciation for '_fate_', as the Headmaster had labelled it… and abruptly an exhilarating peace permeated through his very being.

He blithely noticed he knew no pain anymore, and no sounds penetrated the stillness, and in fact he seemed alone… floating… strange… bliss… … … and then nothingness.

SSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOC

Concurrently, above him members of the Order were in a panic!

"He's stopped breathing!" cried out Tonks. She shook the dark man's shoulders trying to rouse him. "Severus! Snape… SNAPE!"

She retrieved her wand from her robes and aimed it at the unconscious man, "Enervate!" she enunciated, but the spell had no effect.

Remus had hurriedly joined her by her side, reaching out a blood stained hand and feeling for a pulse at the dark man's throat.

"His heart is still beating… his pulse is weak, but it's still there," he announced. "We've go to get him breathing… does anyone know the incantation?!" he yelled out in panic! No-one answered…

"I know mouth to mouth… it can help," a young female voice responded instead.

Hermione Granger quickly slid to her knees at her ex-Professor's side, thrust a few vials into Remus' hands and bent to Severus' face.

"Mouth to Mouth?" queried Lupin, confused.

"It's a Muggle medical treatment… a way for me to breathe _for_ him," she succinctly explained before she grabbed the dark man by his chin and forehead, tilted his neck backwards, pinched his nose closed, quickly placed her open mouth over his, ensuring she had a tight seal, and blew in a deep breath.

Gratified by seeing Snape's chest first rise and then fall when she removed her mouth, she continued on for several more breaths.

The others just gaped in amazement, but as it seemed effective they left the young witch to it, now flanked by the darker haired version of her two regular companions, while sorting out what next to do.

Remus quickly sifted through the vials Hermione had practically shoved into his hands.

"_Blood Replenisher_! Good… give this to him as soon as you can," he thrust the vial towards Tonks. She took it quickly without question.

"That's the best I can do," stated Arthur, finished with his task, gently resting Severus' freshly bandaged leg to the ground with Fred's help.

"It'll do," Remus responded, nodding approvingly to him.

"How is he? Breathing on his own yet?" Arthur queried, concernedly.

Hermione shook her head briefly, indicating 'no' before continuing with her life-saving treatment.

"Where's Molly?" Arthur snapped out, looking around the immediate area in search of his wife. "She has more knowledge of these things than I do!"

"I'm here… I'm coming, I was only seeing to George and Luna…" she responded. Ron had apparently gone in search of the missing matriarch upon the calling for medicinal spell knowledge.

"What's wrong?!" she snapped out questioningly as her eyes took in the scene.

"Severus has stopped breathing," Arthur explained hurriedly.

"What!" she exclaimed… "Well you should have called me sooner!"

Without preamble Molly pressed her way in next to the prone man, ushering all others, including Hermione, back, and laid a hand on his chest. "Right, Severus Snape… don't you _dare_ think I'm going to let you die here in front of me. Do you hear me!?" she sternly commanded as she slid her wand from her apron… "Not after fixing you up already today!"

SSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOC

The hour following the birth of her child was mostly a blur to Phoebe; a good deal of it spent in only part consciousness.

She remembered being urged to push again when the placenta was expelled and she was aware when she was asked about the nature of her burns and scratches, cuts and other ailments, though she was apparently unable to give an answer her attendants were happy with. But everything else was a jumbled mass of images and sounds only serving to frighten and confuse her.

She was forced to swallow numerous potions, endure the application of various salves and treatments and firmly restrained and reassured when she found the energy and alertness to question, resist or panic.

When she was finally cleaned up, soothed, tucked in and left alone all she could do, and all she had the desire to do for that matter, was sink back into the darkness to rest… with no images, no thoughts and no fears to penetrate her peace.

SSOCSSOCSSOCSSOCSSOC

"Severus," a familiar voice echoed vaguely above him, pulling him from the depths of darkness.

The awakening brought with it an intense sensation of ache throughout his entire body, concentrating the harshest in his upper right leg and his throat. His chest also felt tight and he had to put in a supreme effort to draw even a painful breath.

His eyes fluttered before opening and the blurred image of Molly Weasley hovering above him filled his field of view.

"That's right, love. Come on back to the land of the living… good job."

He blinked confusedly. '_Land of the living_…?'

"What-?" he began, his voice merely a breathless, hoarse whisper.

"Shh, don't talk, your throat is red raw… it's been burned badly, you should give it a rest for a bit. Now, you stopped breathing momentarily, but we've got you sorted out. I've given you a double dose of _Blood Replenisher_ via aspiration enhanced with an accelerant charm…" Molly's gaze became gravely solemn, "… it was close, Severus… we nearly lost you."

The dark man blinked slowly, acknowledging what Molly had explained but not really knowing how he should feel. It was a surreal moment being told you had almost died.

Mrs Weasley continued to speak. "And we can't have that now can we… your little lady is going to need you," she said gently, patting his shoulder.

Severus frowned at the reminder. "Any news?" he whispered, ignoring Molly's earlier advice about not talking.

She shook her head solemnly. "No… not yet, I'm sorry."

Disheartened he shifted his gaze from the kindly woman's eyes and focused beyond her shoulder. Potter was standing a little way off, looking unsure… lost… frightened even, his gaze was fixed expectantly upon Severus, Miss Granger apparently trying to distract him, though she too kept shooting worried glances in his direction. The dark man locked his eyes on the green ones for a moment. Harry Potter was just a boy in way over his head to Severus just now… a child… someone's baby…

"Come on, Severus… lets get you to Poppy, then maybe we can find out," she commanded.

Severus' dark glittering eyes shot to hers. "Not yet. Get me something for the pain… Potter needs my help first!"

**_A/N - I do hope next chapter to have them back together... hang in there everyone!_**


	52. Chapter 52 Numb

**_Dear readers, don't say I don't do anything for you - it is nearly two in the morning and not only am I here with an update, but I was considering cutting this chapter off at the two thirds mark (you'll know where I mean when you get there ;) ), but no, I decided to keep writing just to please you as I pretty much promised what's at the end... So as I said, it is two in the morning and I have to get up at 6am, and I haven't made the school lunches yet --- and all this for you! So please, make it all worth it for me.... REVIEW!! ??_**

**_And not only that - but I have made a concerted effort to answer all my reviews from last chapter - *pats self on back* Do give me a chance to prove myself again *hint, hint* :D_**

**_Don't mind me... did I mention it is nearly 2 in the morning? LOL!_**

**_Anyway, without further ado... Sev suffers through his final duties for Harry, and we find out what you've all wanted to know since like chapter ... what... five?? Yikes... and to think I once thought this would be finished in about 18 chapters.. *snicker*_**

**_Enjoy!!! :D_**

**Chapter 52** –_ Numb_

It took two phials of _Pain-Reliever_ and about ten more minutes before Severus was able to attempt to drag himself to his feet… well, _foot_ to be precise; he could not yet bear to put weight on his injured one. For now though he was stable, albeit by leaning heavily on Arthur Weasley on his one side and Lupin helping him balance on the other. His whole body shook with the effort and pain, and he was craving to bury his face in the shoulder of one of his support persons; only pride kept him from actually doing so.

A grimace twisted his features and he badly wanted to give up this foolhardy mission for another stint of tender care by the Weasley matriarch. This torment really was making a mockery of his limits, but he pushed past his moment of wavering determination and straightened himself to nearly full height. The world tilted momentarily but fortunately a few blinks of his eyes had it righting itself once more.

"The pain is still really bad, isn't it, Severus?" Molly, who was also close by, questioned him, concern lacing her tone; reaching out to him and taking one of his hands in hers briefly while her other rummaged within her robe pocket.

He nodded with a huffed breath, confirming her observation.

She sighed sadly whilst giving him a sympathetic look. "Your internal burns are preventing the potion from being ingested efficiently, the membranes must be damaged I'm afraid. There is not really much else I can do… I haven't enough healer knowledge to put you to rights. I'm sorry."

However, despite her proclamation regarding his ailments and her limited healing skills, the Weasley matriarch pressed another small bottle into his palm. "Here," she offered, "this will warm you up and hopefully give you a bit more stamina… for a short time anyway. Any amount that can reach your system can only help. I'm sorry I can't do any better."

He nodded in acknowledgement and thanks. "Don't apologise, Molly… I'll manage," he insisted quietly to her, breathing deeply; and after quickly cracking the seal on the bottle and downing the Pepper-up potion within with a painful swallow, he began to test his right foot on the ground. Pain bloomed in his upper leg with the slightest of pressure, causing his head to spin again, but after a few deep breaths he began to methodically erect his walls of defence in his mind and forcefully shove his awareness of the sensations away behind them.

The emotions of the evening were also brutally swept aside and hidden in the dark shadows until he was standing under his own steam; pushing away the assistance of his Order comrades one by one.

His expression morphed into the cold, aloof countenance the world quite often witnessed upon him and a few of the younger bystanders involuntarily took a small step back from the now menacing and intimidating looking man.

He gazed up at the tower atop the stone steps and with a determined set of his jaw he began to step toward them.

As good as he was at the art of Occlumency he was not able to completely shut out the pain, only dull it to his mind enough that he could focus more on other details around him; so his usually confident gait was still marred by a significant limp. Arthur and Remus scrambled to assist him, but he palmed them off with a glare at each which kept them from insisting he accept their help; they could not accompany him past the barrier, so it was best he resigned to deal with the circumstances alone from the start.

The effort and strain on his injured leg caused by the stairs were pushing brutally on his walls of resistance and the shaking to his limbs returned. His strength waned quickly and he ended up stumbling during his climb which brought him to his knees only a few steps before the barrier. He quickly flipped himself to a sitting position for a moment to rest.

To his surprise the Potter teen was instantly at his side inquiring if he was alright. He caught the green eyes with his own dark ones and nodded his head assuredly, both bemused and appreciative at the same time.

"We will be soon… we _both_ will be," he said quietly to the boy, and he wasn't even sure in that moment where the sentiments had come from, but the flood of warmth that flowed through him just then probably influenced his conviction. Whether the warmth was the result of the Pepper-up finally pervading his system, or if perhaps it was a culmination of his budding feelings of acceptance cementing themselves in his heart, he did not stop to ponder.

Accepting the boy's arm of assistance Severus pulled himself to stand again and continued climbing past the barrier, supporting himself heavily on the balustrade; feeling the recent impressions of camaraderie abandon him when he acknowledged that no-one else could come after him now. He shook off the sensation and focused instead on seeking out the object for which he came.

Without even pausing to look back at the Order members observing him when he reached the top of the staircase he passed through the old door that he had so frequently detested seeing during the past several months and moved into the ante-chamber. He took a deep breath and crossed the room and immediately made for the door that led to the Dark Lord's private chamber – in which he had many months ago ironically toasted to "Life" with the Dark Lord and had finally recognised the first of the horcruxes he had been charged with locating. Before grasping the doorhandle he quickly produced his wand into his hand and held it aloft tensely. The Dark Lord would likely have left booby traps throughout the room, and the dark man wanted to be ready for them.

"Specialis Revelio," Severus murmured; aiming his wand at the handle. Best to be exceptionally cautious considering the item the dark man knew was kept behind this door. Finding no evidence of magical tampering he proceeded to enter the room. Before crossing the threshold he scanned the room for threats. Again finding no reason to delay he stepped into the room and quickly began his search of the shelves, benches and small table beside the magnificent chair fit for a king.

After several minutes he was beginning to feel desperation at not being able to locate the small, golden cup that he'd frequently seen the Dark Lord drink from. It was imperative that the horcrux be found… the future of the Wizarding World depended on it, and he'd _promised_ the light side that he'd located the object and informed them it was here. But why couldn't he _see_ it?! Where had he seen it last? Where did he keep it?!

His gut roiled nervously; it was on his shoulders alone if the Dark Lord could not be eternally vanquished… he'd told _Potter_ 'it' was here!

During his building panic over finding the cup his concentration and awareness of his surroundings were compromised slightly and he was startled at one moment when he thought he saw movement in his peripheral vision to his right toward the Dark Lord's throne seat. He swung around abruptly to face the potential threat, shuffling awkwardly backwards on his injured leg with a hiss; his wand held at the ready with his back safely protected by the corner walls of the room, but he detected no further movements… and after several moments in tense alertness and still nothing and no-one came forward or made its presence known he wondered momentarily if his paranoid mind had merely imagined it. He swallowed, trying to gather his wits in the most efficient manner, pushing away the anxiety that sought to settle in his chest.

He was breathing hard now; all this recent exertion in this poor physical condition taking its toll. He wanted to get out… to leave… _now_! This room, the ruins and in fact the whole property making him feel extremely uneasy. But he just couldn't bring himself to walk down those stairs empty-handed… leaving all these past months worth of torment for nothing. He resolved to keep searching, reaffirming his grasp on his wand a few compulsive times.

With one last sweeping glance around the small room Severus determined the artefact was definitely not in here. But where else would the maniac have put it!?

"Merlin, don't tell me he's moved it since I last saw it," he all but begged to the gods. He gathered his remaining strength and began to limp toward the door that led back to the antechamber hoping he may discover the Dark Lord had merely changed the horcruxes hiding place within these walls. Perhaps in the other rooms; maybe the one Bellatrix had healed him in… or the store room?

Coming back into the antechamber he swept his gaze around the room. It was as sparse as ever; the cup was definitely not hidden in here.

He limped onwards toward the other adjoining door. Passing through he discovered the room was furnished as it had been on his previous visits, however there was one small dark cabinet standing against far wall to the right of the door that the dark man had never really noticed before; he studied it closer.

Severus froze on the spot, a small, almost inaudible gasp escaping from him, for there resting upon the surface of the cabinet was a collection of goblets, all mismatching – both crystal and variety of precious metals - containing various levels of deep red liquid, scattered untidily across the top as if disregarded in the drinkers' haste or distraction.

Amongst the collection of vessels stood the small, golden, ornate cup for which he searched, and to Severus at this moment the item stood out as if a beacon in the night. His respiration, already fast and somewhat laboured, kicked up a notch. Varying emotions of relief and hopeful excitement flooded through his mind, his gut swooping in his exhilaration, but they were immediately countered by the terror and cynicism that abruptly surged up to nearly strangle him; reminding him that salvation was still potentially a world away.

With a concerted effort he schooled his body's enthusiastic response and forced his mind to concentrate, blowing out a long, slow breath. Over the last several minutes it had become increasingly difficult to maintain his focus as his emotions leaked past his defences in panic and desperation and his whole body drained of energy quickly, flagging as a consequence of being pushed to perform exhausting feats all the while sporting quite serious injuries.

Now that he'd discovered the cup's location adrenaline flooded his system giving him a much needed boost, but he had to ensure it was directed in the most efficient manner. He could not afford to rush right in eagerly without cautious consideration… he had to remember just who it was he was dealing with!

The dark man was sure the vessels were not regularly kept in this room; now that he had located the cup he again felt certain the Dark Lord had normally stored the tray and goblets in his private room next door as he'd first thought. His evil master had offered the crystal goblet filled with liquor directly from the tray which had been sitting on the table alongside the evil wizard's throne all those months ago… and Severus definitely got the impression then that was where they were usually stored.

'So, why are they _here_?' he questioned silently.

He suddenly scoffed softly. "No doubt to toast to _my_ demise," he speculated with bitter amusement.

He limped a step toward the cabinet, examining the verity that they had thought his imminent demise warranted a toast. That made his eyes suddenly spark with smugness… if that were true at least he could feel as though he'd left some sort of legacy in this life by way of his revered reputation.

'If that is all I leave before I die, then at least it will be a long while before I am forgotten,' he thought as his steps ended near the cabinet, his wand held high and his eyes scanning the immediate area for any anomalies.

"_Specialis Revelio_," he hissed, beginning his series of spells to ensure he did not fall victim to any curses inadvertently. When nothing was made evident he took a shuffled step back and with his own shield charm ready on his lips he cast, "_Diffindo_!"

Shards of crystal and metal were strewn across the room, sharp slithers blocked inches before they pierced the dark man: but still intact, twirling eerily upon the cabinet surface, was Hufflpuff's golden cup.

Severus reached into his robes and withdrew an unused square of cloth; a handkerchief; a legacy of his mother's attempt to teach him good manners. Preparing to drop the material over the cup to take possession of the horcrux without allowing the item to touch his skin (for he knew what had injured Dumbledore's hand so insidiously), Severus took a hobbled step forward.

It was when his hand was mere millimetres from the artefact that he heard a menacing his and was struck quite forcefully on his already painful leg from the side. He gave a short cry of surprise and agony. His limb gave out from under him and he found himself horrifyingly face to face with the Dark Lord's monstrous pet serpent, Nagini.

Instinctively he brandished his wand in front of him and cast a quick succession of curses. "_Crucio_… _Stupefy_… _Diffindo!_" He vaguely noticed that only one hit its mark, and even then the damage done was minimal. The animal was able to twist and flip itself incredibly to avoid his counterattack.

The beast lunged at him again, managing to slip past his hastily cast shield charm and wrap her lithe body around one of his legs as her mouth fought his flailing hands for purchase somewhere – anywhere - on his soft body.

The leg caught in the rapidly coiling snake was, typically, his seriously injured one and it was exploding in fiery agony from the pressure exerted at all angles: pulling, squeezing, twisting. If the dark man hadn't been so pre-occupied with fending off the predator's sharp fangs just then, his left arm deflecting blow after blow, he might have succumbed to the pain.

However he couldn't help but cry out as his injury was aggravated brutally, and in a moment when he caught his breath, realising with amazement that he still retained a grip on his wand he slashed it through the air desperately and cried, "_Sectumsempra_!"

Nagini reared back releasing her death grip on his leg, sliced badly by the Half-Blood Prince creation. Severus shuffled backwards quickly, hands shaking, his breathing all over the place, sharp twinges shooting through his arm and his whole body reeling from the attack and exertion. He looked wildly around for the exit so he might make his escape. Identifying the route of his flight he tried to get to his feet but found the task impossible. Between his fierce trembles and the excruciating pain there was no way he was going to get his limbs to cooperate.

As he began the laborious half crawl half shuffle toward the door he saw the glistening gold cup directly in his path. It must have been knocked to the ground by accident as he was attacked.

However as he gained ground on the item he wondered whether the gods were merely mocking him? Without the handkerchief in reach he was going to have to either touch the sinister artefact or devise another way to gather it with him and as the giant serpent was now gathering itself in another coil to attack he did not have time to ponder the dilemma.

He aimed his wand at the creature, willing a curse from the instrument. The snake again shied away, hit in the face by a conjunctivitis hex, rendering it almost blind. However it struck at him again, fiercely… furiously, forcing Severus to dodge and block the blows once more.

It was only now that Severus wondered at the tenacity, and the odd accuracy and intelligent target selection, of the animal attacking him. Surely a mere snake would not intentionally attempt to aggravate existing injuries of their adversary! Nor continue to attack when it itself sported near fatal wounds. No… this was no mere serpent, it was surely being controlled by the Dark Lord himself. Severus had known he had the capacity before… since Arthur Weasley had been attacked at the Ministry, witnessed by Harry Potter in a dream… vision, whatever Albus had decided it was.

'Fantastic,' he thought mordantly, wondering if he was going to be able to get out of this at all. He sent another damaging hex toward the errant beast. That was when he remembered that Nagini was also a _horcrux _and that meant that Severus was going to be unlikely to be able to destroy her completely.

He resumed his trek to the exit, this time with much more urgency. As he approached the golden cup he swept at it with his cloak covered arm, knocking the vessel through the open doorway, then dragged himself after it. When he neared the door he again tried to get his legs under him, and this time would have made it if the bloody snake hadn't lunged at him once again.

Severus good leg slipped in the copious amounts of blood covering the scene and crashed to the stone floor wrestling furiously with the serpent, grunting and groaning throughout the fight. This time however he could tell that the beast was severely weakened and was able to wrest himself out of her grip and banished the creature away from him. However his own strength and focus was fading now too and he only managed a few meters before his charm gave out.

Almost welcoming the debilitating pain, Severus scrambled on hands and knees toward away from the snake toward the cup horcrux and subsequently the outer chamber doorway. His breaths and heart rate were through the roof and he briefly wondered how it was his heart had not yet given out on him.

He was in such physical distress that he had unconsciously begun to whimper and sob with every intake of air.

Severus looked back and saw the snake coming at him again, though this time quite sluggishly. He pushed desperately to his feet, sweeping the golden cup along with him closer to the outer door. As he nearer the exit his legs gave way again and he crashed down to his knees, crawling forward those last few meters. His vision had dimmed as he went down, and his perception of the events abruptly reverted to slow motion as he scrambled out onto the landing at the top of the steps. He reached back and scooped the cup up with his arm again and flung it down the flight of stairs; leaning back dizzily to watch the artefact bounce down comically.

Once the cup had bounced beyond the barrier Severus allowed himself to rest back against the balustrade and sigh; everything still happening in apparent slow motion around him. He took slow, deep breaths in and out, his whole body and mind enveloped in a numb, blurry fantasy world; sounds echoing strangely.

Someone was calling his name but he could not, and quite frankly did not feel the need, to pinpoint the caller. The world was throbbing around him, his focus slow and imprecise, but when the snake came at him again, and the calls became frantic screams, his reactions saved him one last time. He swung his arm toward the creature and backhanded the beast away from him down the stairs. He watched in the same detached, amused manner as the serpent twisted and writhed as she tumbled through the barrier to the base of the stairs and was beheaded by Neville Longbottom wielding Godric Gryffindor's sword.

'How poetic,' his muddled mind decided, before he too pushed himself forward to topple down the staircase.

As he came to a halt he was grasped by various screeching people, not able to respond to their insistent harpings, but knowing he was safe. He cooperated when he was lifted up slightly and told to swallow the 'antedote' pressed to his lips – he didn't know why; had he been poisoned? And he recognised Arthur Weasley's face when he stuck his head close and whispered to him.

"… always carry some with me now… with me now… me now…" the man echoed. He must have been trying to explain. Followed by something about, "…if I hadn't had a turn first… lucky… lucky… lucky…"

Severus' last memory was lying numbly in the dirty, slushy snow once more watching as Potter's blurry and indistinct form skewered first the cup and then Pettigrew's key with the wide blade of the ruby encrusted sword… and he knew his job was over… he could rest…

He closed his eyes and sunk into the comforting darkness…

*******

"Put me down… I want to walk," Severus snapped out abruptly just outside the infirmary doors.

"Severus…" Remus began to argue with him.

"No! I want to walk… I don't wish for her to be frightened… I am more than capable," he insisted.

Lupin put a hand up in surrender, "Fine… sure, whatever you want, Severus," he said, guiding his wand to set the stretcher down. He moved to assist the man to his feet but was waved away. Once he was sure the ex-Death Eater was secure on his feet he banished the stretcher and moved back towards the staircase; there were other Order members who were likely to appreciate his assistance more.

Severus paused outside the large double door, hesitant to find out what state Phoebe was in on the other side of the dividers. He was quite calm, but it was a false calm, for he had yet to lower his Occlumency walls and let the emotions and pains of the evening consume him again.

He reached out and grasped the door handle, pushing the large door inwards and stepping gingerly through the gap. He surveyed the beds quickly and instantly spotted Phoebe in the end bed on the right. It was only a few moments before she noticed him as well.

"Oh, God… Severus," she whispered loudly, and sprung from her bed, rushing toward him.

He could only gasp a short breath at the sight of her. For a short time at least during the past few hours he'd resigned himself to probably never seeing her again. He took a few tentative, limping steps toward her, but soon she had reached him and had thrown herself into his arms.

"Severus," she gushed emotionally, "oh, God… where have you been? Are you alright? You said you'd be right behind me… you took so long…" she muttered into his cloak.

"Where were you?" she continued, her tone slightly frosty.

He pushed her away slightly to capture her gaze. "I was… delayed…" he said, but so much had happened that he faltered, finding it difficult to explain.

"Where the hell were you?" she repeated, her tone now accusing; and Severus first recognised that she was not as alright as she first appeared.

"Answer me, damn it! Where were you… you said you'd be right there… you said you'd be there!" Phoebe suddenly broke down in tears and began to yank sharply on his robes with every accusation that burst from her mouth. Severus just stared blankly at her, unable to feel, unwilling to subject himself to the anguish that poured from the woman in front of him.

"You left me… to do it by myself. Why!? Why didn't you come… I needed you!"

At that she began to pound her fists upon his chest, thumping harder with every agonising revelation, and Severus just took it… every blow… every accusation… if he hadn't already been numb he would have felt he deserved it anyway.

"I had to do it by myself… it hurt so much… there was no-one to help, and I was so dizzy…" Sobs began to wrack her shoulders then and the man just let her keep hitting, and crying and yelling… Severus' chest started to feel tight, like he couldn't breathe; he was definitely aware of what she appeared to be telling him.

"I wasn't supposed to be alone… I told you I couldn't do it by myself!" she cried out, absolutely devastated. "And the baby wouldn't move-"

She broke off, unable to continue, the sobs still wracking her frame. Others came from adjoining rooms to determine just what was going on, what the shouting was all about, but neither Phoebe nor Severus paid any heed.

And now there was no doubt in Severus' mind – Phoebe was letting him know that she couldn't do anything to save their child… and it was his fault because he had left her… he hadn't been there. His head began to feel light and his legs suddenly shaky and weak. She leaned heavily on him; searching desperately for comfort, but this only succeeded in bringing them both crashing to the floor as his legs gave way beneath him. He only managed to grasp her shoulders as they dropped abruptly to the ground.

At the sudden jarring Phoebe was torn from her own anguish to consider her lover. He was pale and didn't look well. He was more torn up than what she remembered and she suddenly realised that something else must have happened. He was shaking and Phoebe could hear he was breathing too shallowly.

She put her hands up to cup his cheeks. "Severus? Are you alright?"

Someone tried to pull Phoebe away, soothing her with calming words; but she gripped on to his robes for dear life. He wasn't doing well and she did not want to let him go out of her sight again… not for a very long time!

"Severus," Remus was saying, keeping his tone calm, "let go… come on, Madam Pomfrey will get you fixed up."

But Severus would not relinquish his grip on Phoebe's shoulders. He finally secured her gaze with his, and all his anguish pushed hard on his Occlumency shields and coloured his expression.

"I'm sorry, I-I'm… sorry," he simply said in a rough voice, before he hung his head to the floor.

And then he heard the most amazing sound… the weak cry of an infant.

His head came up slowly; his gaze searching in the direction of the Matron's office. His eyes darted to Phoebe, then to Minerva McGonagall who was attempting to drag Phoebe away from him and back to the office; and by now he was wondering if maybe he'd only imagined the sound.

But no… there it was again. He gasped out a breath and his eyes darted back to Phoebe once more.

"Did… did the child… the baby, did it-" he rasped, heaving breaths that were suddenly felt too fast and skittish. "The- the baby… he lived?" he finally asked, almost too afraid to be hopeful.

But Phoebe was there with tears in her eyes nodding at him, smiling. "Yes… but I hope you're not disappointed, but _he's_ really a _she_… a baby girl."

Severus nearly choked in his joy. "Yes? Yes…?" Phoebe was still nodding. "A girl…?" Phoebe confirmed it for him again with another nod. His features were overtaken with elation but they were also twisted with emotion as the flood of feeling finally burst through his Occlumency shields. He reached out and grasped the woman to him, sobbing his relief into her hair.

"I could never be disappointed," he whispered to her, "never… never… I could never." Severus pulled himself together enough to ask, "Is she alright… is she healthy?"

Phoebe hugged the man back. "Yes… Poppy said she's going to be fine… she's very small, but she's going to be fine."

He sighed a small breath of relief again. "Can-can I see her?"

"Of course you can," Phoebe answered reprovingly, shifting back in his grasp so she could see his face, "as if you have to ask permission. You're her Daddy, remember!"

He looked a little shell shocked at the moniker, but pleased all the same.

"But first I think it might be a good idea for us to get off the floor, don't you think, Daddy?" she teased.


	53. Chapter 53 The Phoenix Princess

**_Hello again! I welcome you to enjoy another chapter._**

**_Thanks to all readers/reviewers - your interest has made my days! :D_**

**_As promised this chapter we finally get to meet this baby girl who has been the glue holding Phoebe and Severus together all these months (well, years if you are going by how often I have updated - my apologies!) Let's hope I captured the 'moment' when Severus first lays his eyes on her... the child who decided to come when she wasn't necessarily wanted, but made a cold man desperately long to hold her anyway... "Aww..."_**

**_Read away, my lovelies!_**

**_Oh, and do please leave a small message telling me how you are enjoying this fic... pretty please?_**

**Chapter 53** – _The Phoenix Princess_

Severus was helped from the floor by numerous hands. Every small movement resulted in an intense fiery agony from the numerous injuries spread across his body and he could not prevent the many cries and moans that escaped from his throat as he was gently assisted to lie upon the nearest bed. Now that his Occlumency shields had once again crumbled, and his anxiousness for Phoebe no longer distracted him, his own body claimed precedence of his considerations, screaming its protest at the plethora of physical abuse heaped upon it in recent hours.

His limbs shook with visible tremors and he felt thoroughly exhausted and a little nauseas; at this moment his physical distress wiped all thoughts of seeing his new baby daughter from his mind. He closed his eyes to try to master control of himself again.

Poppy Pomfrey appeared at his bed side and quickly ran a series of diagnostic spells over him.

"And what's your story," she asked, her tone noticeably icy, however Severus was grateful to feel her touch was as gentle and professional as anyone ever hoped it could be.

He opened his eyes and fleetingly captured her gaze. "A long one," he succinctly replied with a sigh, not able to make his lengthy explanation in his current condition.

"I see," she frostily returned, and Severus could only accept her attitude. He was far too unwell to really fight for his reputation just now. So long as she did not add to his suffering he would tolerate the ill will.

However he needn't have to, he discovered next.

"An unbelievable series of extenuating circumstances, Poppy… Severus is to be commended, he has outdone his duty to the light side," the voice of Arthur Weasley piped up from the next bed where he and Molly had been fussing over their injured son.

Severus was floored by the gesture of steadfast loyalty and praise the Weasley patriarch extended him and his heart swelled with appreciation and a warm glow of contentment. He glanced at the man and offered him a grateful nod, his internal emotions replicated in his expression.

"Is that so?" the Matron responded, turning a dubious expression to the dark man.

"Without a doubt," called Potter who stood near Luna Lovegood's hospital bed across the room, flanked by Miss Granger and Lupin. Severus remained speechless… Potter, of all people, was making a stand for him? It was more than a little bizarre.

Poppy Pomfrey turned a surprised and stunned look upon the teenager before eventually twisting back to the injured man on the bed before her. She stared at him in wonder for several moments. Obviously the same thoughts were running through her head.

"Well… in that case we'd better get you sorted so you can get acquainted with that beautiful, darling, little baby girl in my office, okay?" The nurse promptly drew the curtains around the dark man's bed with a flick of her wand. She took the hand of the strained woman who had remained close to Snape's side since Poppy had bustled out of her office and beckoned her out through the opening. Once out of earshot she turned to address the new mother.

"Phoebe… it will be best if you do not stay," Poppy suggested gently to the woman, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Severus' injuries are quite severe and this is likely be a little traumatic for him… and consequently for you too. I think he'd be more at ease if he didn't see your distress. Besides, I think you've been through enough already. Why don't you go check on your daughter while I do what I can to make him more comfortable? Minerva is monitoring her for me but she was beginning to fuss a little before… perhaps she needs a feed?"

Phoebe agreed reluctantly, only because she was feeling emotionally overtaxed by her own ordeal and because she worried for her baby daughter. The infant's cries had the effect of tying her stomach up in knots and she felt a compulsion to go to her. And if she thought about it she would have to agree that she may not deal with Severus' suffering very well; for even she could see he was in a bad way and may not remain stoic throughout his treatment.

She returned to the inside of the curtain to speak with the injured father of her child.

"I need to go to the baby, Severus… she's fussing. But if you need me to stay… if you want me to, I will. Otherwise I'll be within calling distance… just ask for me and I'll be here, okay."

Severus was a little disappointed that Phoebe would not be by his side, but he understood that she had another (small and defenceless) person relying on her who would have to take priority.

He nodded, not trusting his voice not to give away his disappointment. She leaned in and gave him a light kiss on the outer edge of his eyebrow. He barely resisted throwing his arms around her to never let her go.

"I won't be far away," she reiterated, and promptly exited the curtain partition.

Madam Pomfrey had gathered Molly and Remus to assist her and all three stood beside the bed waiting for the dark man to be ready to proceed.

"All right?" Poppy queried, and after a moment Severus gave a short, quick nod in return. He badly wanted to feel better now; the constant pain was wearing on him both mentally and physically, but he felt an odd fluttering in his chest at the prospect… like that was a distant, if non-existent, likelihood.

Poppy now had with her a container filled with various potions, bandages and cleansers, several of which Severus recognised by sight instantly. She arranged them upon a treatment trolley whilst giving her two helpers instructions. Remus lifted his wand and cast a silencing charm upon the material cubicle as directed.

"So, what has already been administered?" the Matron queried of the werewolf.

Remus disclosed the list of potions and treatments that Severus had received since his leg had been impaled, careful not to omit anything at all. "Arthur did his best to stop the bleeding in the leg and to heal it very basically, but he's been worried his best might have compromised a more permanent effort. I tried to reassure him you wouldn't berate him for saving Severus from bleeding to death," the werewolf jested lightly before continuing. "Also, Severus stopped breathing for a time… Miss Granger performed a Muggle treatment… er… 'Mouth to Mouth', she called it, before Molly was available to spell his breathing to continue."

Whilst Severus registered shock at discovering this fact, Poppy nodded her understanding whilst taking her patient's vital sign readings; she was apparently familiar with the treatment.

"And he's been given one dose of venom antidote… he was bitten by You-Know-Who's snake… you know, the one that got Arthur Weasley. Severus is lucky Arthur was so diligent carrying it, really. You heard, didn't you? It apparently took St Mungo's nearly three and a half weeks or so to come up with an antidote to counter the poison preventing the wounds from closing." Remus was whispering, glancing apologetically at Severus every so often, presumably because he was talking about him as if he wasn't in the room. Severus couldn't care less at the moment; he was quite overwhelmed by the activity going on around him and the revelations being disclosed.

"Yes, I heard," the Matron muttered almost under her breath, with a certain amount of contempt for the snake and its poison. Although she was not actually an Order member, being an actively working healer had resulted in her automatically being made aware of the disturbing incident with a snake (although only the bare bones of the story) and symptoms that particular snake's venom had elicited, and therefore also informed of the existence of a remedy should she come across the need for it through professional channels. However it was only after Remus' explanation that the Matron learned the snake was actually Lord Voldemort's _pet_ snake. She at once decided she would need to keep a very close eye on her patient and examine him completely to ensure he did not develop any nasty complications.

With a swish of the Matron's wand Severus felt his bloodied, mangled robes and clotes vanish from his body, leaving him in his underwear alone, thankful he would not be expected to struggle out of them the manual way. He hurt… everywhere! A light sheet was instantly laid over him to preserve his dignity. A shiver travelled down his almost naked body beneath the sheet; and he began to feel as though the worst of his poor symptoms of the previous few hours were returning to him. It frightened him to be going downhill again.

Molly Weasley had taken a position next to the head of the bed on his right and rubbed a gentle, comforting hand on Severus' shoulder. "You'll be holding that baby in no time, Severus… I'm sure she can't wait to meet her very _brave_ Daddy," she said, settling into a chair where she could easily support and encourage him, her left hand lightly resting on his wrist.

Severus brusquely scoffed at the woman's assumption of his so called bravery, for he did not possess any such outlook right now. In fact an inexplicable terror was now building in his chest instead. He could barely pinpoint where the sudden sensation had come from, but his mind settled on one sentiment.

"I don't want to die," he suddenly confessed at a whisper, a desperate hitch interrupting his breath. The comment was easily heard by the kindly woman settling next to him. She snapped her regard up to him instantly.

"Oh, my dear… of course you don't. Don't worry, that's not going to happen. Poppy is one of the most competent healers in the business… you're in good hands now." She looked at him with the most agonised, emotional expression, standing and cradling his cheek with her right hand.

He sighed. Intellectually he knew this already… but it didn't make the fear go away. He was afraid to believe he was a mere short step to happiness… his long awaited freedom… a new beginning. Something would go wrong… something always did!

The older woman must have recognised the doubt and despairing emotions flitting through his mind by the expressions flashing across his features and took pity on him. With a quick study of the man she came to a decision, patting him on his wrist.

"Severus… you've waited such a long time already… I don't think you need the torment of waiting any longer… not with these sorts of fears upsetting you, especially." She turned to address the Mediwitch. "I'll be right back, Poppy." Molly paused briefly and whispered something to the Matron as she swept by and Madam Pomfrey nodded her agreement in return.

Poppy moved up and took Molly's place at his side, leaving him no time to wonder what the Weasley woman had gone off to do.

"Open up," she ordered succinctly," producing a flat stick with which to hold down the man's tongue so she could examine his throat. He followed her instruction, closing his eyes when the Medi-witch's wand was ignited and the light directed toward his face.

Grimacing the Matron studied the damage done by the _Fire Infuser_ curse. "And where exactly were you hit?" she queried, withdrawing the instrument so he could answer.

Severus swallowed painfully, opening his eyes when the bright light was removed. "The stomach," he supplied quietly, recalling the terrible moment.

The Matron tutted her disapproval, lowering the sheet to just below his waist to inspect any evident harm done. She prodded at his belly with practiced fingers to feel for any swelling and assess his reaction. Severus could not help but wince at her investigative manipulation.

Madam Pomfrey huffed out an irritated sigh at the apparent extent of damage the examination revealed.

"Well, it appears many of your internal organs might have been damaged to some degree, then. I suppose we'd better start you on a course of treatment, else nothing I give you for pain, etcetera will be adequately effective."

She looked the uncovered part of him up and down, taking note of every scratch and bite evident, shaking her head occasionally in disgust. "I'll see just what remedy I have in stock, though I might have to order some _Adicio Gelu_ tonic for the internal burns along with a supply of antidote for that blasted snake venom from St Mungo's. You've been bitten numerous times, Severus… you're likely going to need more than the dose Arthur was able to give you; some of these are still bleeding a little. And I suspect your leg wound is being affected by the venom too, the bandage is soaked." She was pointing vaguely to the offending wounds as she explained, and briefly flipped up the sheet covering his leg for another look.

He nodded, trying to process all that she was telling him, but it was getting harder as his mind began to feel more sluggish by the minute.

The woman disappeared from the curtained partition for a few minutes, during which time Severus rested his eyes, ignoring Lupin's lame attempt at diversionary conversation, before coming back with a phial of thick, blue tinged, white liquid.

"Here… drink this," she said, holding it out for him. With a flick of her wand the bed gently raised his torso up to a level where he could sip the phial without spilling the contents. The thick, cool liquid slid slowly and soothingly down his throat, and he almost sighed loudly at finally receiving even a small amount of relief for at least one of his ailments.

"I've put in an order at St Mungo's… it'll take up to half an hour for them to floo through the potions. In the meantime I'll just have a little look at Arthur's handiwork," she said, reaching for the sheet again.

Severus lay upon the bed trembling in anticipation of more pain as Poppy removed the dressings upon his damaged leg to get a better idea of what treatment she needed to apply. Remus helped support the limb in a position for the best access. Severus began to fervently wish the Weasley matriarch would return so she would reach for his hand to squeeze it in support; he distinctly felt his face drain of blood.

And suddenly, as if magically summoned, the woman appeared through the curtains. She bustled up to him quickly; grasping the hand he had just been wishing was covered with hers.

"Severus, dear… I've brought you a little visitor. Are you up for it?" she asked unexpectedly, gazing worriedly at him.

He stared up at her uncomprehending at first, and at his frown of confusion she clarified.

"She's just had a nice feed and is ready to meet her Daddy… what do you think?"

It took a further few moments for Molly's question to sink in, but he soon began nodding, a spark of longingly lighting abruptly in his eyes, taking his mind instantly off what was happening to his lower half. "Yes… yes… please."

Molly turned to the curtain and beckoned Phoebe in, making sure to shield the uncovered wound from the Muggle woman as she walked past the Matron.

Phoebe went immediately to Severus' side. He could see the tightly swaddled bundle in her arms and his eyes stared expectantly at the folds of material… the thrill of excitement swelled in his chest along with a sudden stab of emotion.

"Sit down, dear," Molly ushered, and pushed the chair a little closer for Phoebe. She nodded hr thanks but remained standing for the time being.

"Hey, how are you?" Phoebe asked, reaching a hand to his cheek.

He couldn't answer just then… he was overwhelmed with the moment. He nodded instead, hoping she would understand that he was okay… well, sort of, anyway.

She smiled at him lovingly, and he was relieved to see that she did indeed understand.

"Meet our little girl, Severus." Phoebe lowered the bundle to the small space in the crook of his arm and helped him wrap his hand securely around the infants back and bottom before taking the offered seat.

And that was how the dark man got his first glimpse of his beautiful, baby daughter.

A mass of fine, dark hair, fair translucent skin tinged with the flush of new birth, button nose, lips stained with the prettiest pinky-red… and slate blue eyes - only a few shades less vivid blue than her mothers' – framed with long, dark lashes. Severus made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sigh, quite overcome with emotion.

Above his daughter's mouth floated a small foggy mass. Severus' eyes flicked up at Phoebe questioningly. "What is this," he queried quite worriedly.

"It's oxygen… she still needs it to help with her breathing. Madam Pomfrey says that she might need it for another day or two, and we'll need to keep a close eye on her until the potion ripens her lungs enough. She's very small… about ten weeks premature, but she's okay… they tell me she's going to be fine."

Severus glanced back down at the baby held firmly by his arm. It was true; she was absolutely tiny… but nothing more beautiful had Severus ever seen!

"Perfect…" he murmured softly, "she's perfect!"

A tear rolled down Phoebe's cheek. "Yeah… I think so too," she agreed.

The baby squeaked a soft noise as she stretched suddenly and Severus had to smile. "Have you named her yet?" he asked quietly.

"No," Phoebe said, shaking her head. "I couldn't do that until you got here. Besides, I have no idea… all this time I've been imagining her as a _boy_," she admitted with a short chuckle.

Severus was still gazing lovingly at his daughter's face. "I have a suggestion…" he offered, with no expectations.

"Of course… she's as much yours as she is mine, Severus… what is it?"

"Seraphoena - _the Phoenix Princess_ - the perfect blend of you and I," he offered, reaching over and tracing the backs of his fingers down the baby's soft cheek before glancing up at Phoebe to gauge her reaction.

She was smiling joyfully. "I like it," she stated, nodding lightly. "And how about… Seraphoena _Eileen_?"

He was no longer smiling… in fact he looked a little upset.

"That… that is my-"

"Your mother's name? Yes, I know… I asked. Professor McGonagall knew… she told me. But we don't have to if you don't want-"

"No… I do. She… she would have been proud." He paused a moment before adding, "But are you sure?"

"Yes, Severus, it's lovely… and besides, _my_ mother is already catered for… her name is Sara," she said with a grin.

He nodded, regaining his smile as he gazed back down at the infant squirming in his arms.

"That's it then… _Seraphoena Eileen Snape_," Phoebe announced.

"Perfect!" Severus said softly, quietly content.


	54. Chapter 54  The Mystery of the Magic

**__****OMG - there is finally an update! I know, it's been ages - all I can say is a humble and genuine 'sorry', but it's hard to find uninterrupted time needed to really get into the mood to write this fic... it needs a lot of thought to tie up those loose ends, remember everyone and their issues, and work those answers in for you. But, excuses aside, I deliver an extra long chappie for your reading pleasure...**

**_So, how did Phoebe squeeze that magic out of that ebony wand...? Read on to find out!_**

**_Enjoy... then let me know if you did. :D _**

**Chapter 54** – _The Mystery of the Magic_

The matron and her assistant were temporarily awed by the image of father and baby meeting for the first time and the obvious beginnings of early bonding. They shared a warm glance at one another before returning to the task at hand. Molly Weasley took a moment to cast a pleased glance over the new family before leaving for a moment to check on her own child, grown though he was, once again.

George Weasley had also been injured at the Death Eater ruin and his mother had felt a tremendous amount of worry for her son, and in fact her entire family… as this had not been the first time one of her children had been hurt during a front line encounter with this war.

Severus lay silently gazing at his new daughter, totally absorbed in the infant for many minutes. The tiny baby was contentedly stretching, yawning and making sweet little noises wrapped securely in her father's arm. Phoebe had scooted her chair closer and was resting her very weary head on the bed beside her daughter. She might have even been able to fall asleep there in the next few minutes if the serene quiet continued.

The dark man's breaths had become a little too shallow and stressed in recent minutes and when the Matron first noticed his strain Madam Pomfrey paused in her examination to cast a brief vitals assessment on her patient. Severus would need to be as stable as possible before she went on to begin healing the leg wound.

She frowned lightly at the results and with a quick swish of her wand the new father now wore a gassy bubble of oxygen over his mouth and nose to match the premature infant cradled by his arm.

The man showed no recognition that the treatment had been administered, and only after seeing the man blink did the Medi-witch feel satisfied and return her focus to the injured leg. She began by casting a series of cleansing charms over and into the wound, reluctantly finding no option but to manipulate the jagged skin and torn muscle with her own hands and fingers to ensure total access. This was undoubtedly going to be painful for Severus.

She warned the weary man assisting her before she began the most invasive of her manipulation. "Hold him still," she advised at a murmur before manoeuvring the torn edges of skin in the leg wound.

Severus suddenly gasped in a pained breath. He was gritting his teeth, his jaw clenched tightly and his brow creased deeply.

Phoebe's head shot up and her left hand darted out to cup over his forehead. After another gasp and moan Phoebe recognised the intense pain in his features her head whipped toward the Medi-witch.

"Isn't there something you can give him for the pain?" she bit out, almost accusingly in her distress.

"Hold on one moment," the Medi-witch brusquely insisted, maintaining her focus on her task. She finished her current spell and looked up at the frustrated Muggle woman, a little annoyed at being snapped at, but experienced and professional enough to understand that only concern for the patient fuelled the irritation. Poppy was fully prepared to explain to the distressed woman.

"Severus has internal injuries, Phoebe, ones that are preventing the assistance of potions. So until I have been able to heal these internal burns there is little that will help with the pain. Unfortunately his leg needs attention _now_… he's still losing blood. It's affecting his breathing, his awareness and alertness are suffering and his internal organs, which are under enough strain as it is, could fail if this continues to worsen much further; therefore something has to be done about it immediately."

Phoebe blanched, glancing worriedly back at the father of her child. He was ashen in complexion and his limbs were shaking. He had now squeezed his eyes shut tightly. It was clear he was not coping well.

She ran her hand down over his shoulder and along his arm. The man's muscles were taut under her fingers and the fist that was once cupping under the baby's swathed bottom was clenched in a fist. Seraphoena began to whimper a little in discomfort as she was squeezed slightly.

"Severus… relax a little, I know it hurts but it'll be easier if you can make your body relax," she encouraged, tears springing in her eyes.

At witnessing the man's torment, and after a moment of thought, the Matron came to a sudden decision. "Phoebe, there may be another solution… hold on."

She stuck her head out the curtained partition.

"Molly!" she called and the Weasley matriarch bustled in.

She whispered in the woman's ear briefly and after a nod between them the mother of seven set to work.

"Pick up your daughter, Phoebe… I'll take you both into the office. No, don't argue… this is the best for everyone." The older woman leaned close to Phoebe's ear, a comforting hand caressing her shoulder gently. "Poppy is going to put Severus into a deep sleep for the rest of the procedure… he's going to be okay, it'll be alright."

At hearing the decision Phoebe glanced gratefully at Madam Pomfrey and then back to Molly, sighing with relief. She nodded her agreement and scooped up her baby girl from the crook of her father's stiff arm.

Severus must have felt the warm bulk leave his side; he flicked open his eyes to determine why his daughter had been removed from his grasp.

"Don't… take…" he managed to rasp out, more than physical pain evident in his dark orbs.

Phoebe quickly passed Seraphoena on to Molly and turned back to Severus. With a comforting grasp of his hand she soothed him.

"It's okay… we won't be far. We'll be right here for you when you are better, okay. You'll be feeling better soon… I promise."

She leant down and gave him a gentle kiss at his temple and made a hasty retreat, tears already splashing down her cheek.

Molly ushered the upset, new mother into the Matron's office and into a comfortable chair. She passed the care for the infant and mother over to Professor McGonagall once more with an additional comment about 'ordered potions', and returned to assist at Severus' bedside.

Poppy was already standing at the bed head chanting softly, repeatedly… tranquilly; her wand circling over the entire length of his body. Remus Lupin was standing to the side observing intently.

The Latin mantra, intoned over and over, was both gentle, but unbendingly compelling. Molly stood still just inside the curtain, watching and waiting patiently as the melodic spell first caused the suffering man to relax each of his muscles and then to sink gradually into slumber. When Severus' cloud encased lips, which had been clamped in a thin line, finally softened and parted slightly the Matron ceased.

She looked up and, upon spotting Molly waiting, immediately directed her to conjure a continuous monitoring charm, and for any anomalies or changes to the patient's vital signs to be reported to Poppy without delay. Molly took her seat next to the unconscious man and began her observation diligently.

With Remus' assistance, the Matron got on with her job of healing the light side's latest, and most unexpected, hero.

Fifteen minutes later Phoebe sat curled into the reclined armchair in the Medi-witch's office.

Baby Seraphoena was tightly swaddled and sleeping soundly in the little, hip-high bassinet that had been conjured especially for her after her birth. The small cloud of richly oxygenated air was swirling serenely across her tiny mouth and nose.

Phoebe had been given a pillow and was resting her head dozily upon it, but she refused to allow herself to drift further into slumber. She wanted to stay alert for news of Severus.

"You should sleep, Phoebe!" chastised the Professor, "You'll not be doing yourself or your baby any favours by becoming even more physically exhausted."

Phoebe unconsciously flicked her gaze out the door in Severus' direction.

McGonagall did not miss the gesture. "He'll be alright… and he'll also expect to find you rested when he wakes. I don't know if you've had the pleasure of being introduced to our revered ex-Professor's temper, but it's known to be quite formidable - if you will believe the student population, of course," she joked, though her accent was lending the underlying expectation that Phoebe really ought to rest _deep_ significance.

Phoebe sighed, made a loath, reluctant face and nodded lightly. Yes, she _had_ met Severus' temper… a few times actually, and the thought of encountering it again was not at all enticing for her in her current exhaustion; Professor McGonagall raised quite a valid point!

McGonagall narrowed her eyes in concern at Phoebe's reaction. "He has been _kind_, hasn't he, Phoebe?" she questioned tactfully, but her meaning was explicitly clear.

Phoebe blinked and shifted her gaze to the older woman. "Er, yes… yeah. I mean, I have to admit we have argued a little… but considering the stress and strain he has been under I have to assume it's affected him negatively in some ways. I can't hold it against him though, it just wouldn't be fair."

"Hmm…" the old Professor intoned doubtfully. "Well, I'll be sure to let him know I'll be keeping an eye on how he treats you. He's not been known for arbitrary kindness or consideration even at the best of times, you know."

Phoebe was shocked at the clear and ease of the prejudice displayed toward Severus despite the man's obvious recent suffering and sacrifices. It made her feel more than irritated.

"Well, maybe he hasn't been introduced to anyone worthy until now!" she snapped out, her exhaustion lending a hand to her failure to rein in her annoyance. After all, in the past she'd more than proved herself an admirable opponent for her often brusque lover.

McGonagall stilled, obviously not accustomed to being spoken to in such a tone. But instead of chastising the younger woman for her rudeness, the pursed mouth suddenly spread to a small, self-satisfied smirk.

"Oh… so the reticent Severus Snape _is_ capable of inducing the affable regard of another. Who would have guessed?" she smoothly mocked sarcastically. The older woman then considered Phoebe even more intently. "Do you _love_ him?"

Phoebe was taken aback; both the surprising attitude of the older woman after Phoebe's uncouth quip, and her subsequent question, took her off guard.

_Did_ she love Severus? The previous seven months had been laborious, lonely and boring; but it had also been intense, frightening and overwhelming. Both extremes had served to heighten her feelings for the man who broke her boredom, protected, sheltered and cared for her, sought her company in times of difficulty, relied on her strength and stability and genuinely seemed to like her. Several times Phoebe had genuinely believed she did indeed love the father of her child… but other times she had been clearly enlightened on how little she really knew _about_ him… or really knew _him_. And how on earth could she say she _loved_ someone she did not fully know…?

It was certainly a consideration she would have to face at some stage in the future… but not now. Now Severus needed, deserved and had well and truly _earned_ her allegiance and devotion; especially when it was being questioned by this woman. For this woman had judged the dark man without all the facts… without the benefit of the opportunity to see the man without the heavy burdens of bitter guilt, expectation and duty heaped upon his shoulders. Phoebe had a chance now to show that if a mere _Muggle_ could love this man who had once identified himself as a Death Eater, then surely he was worthy of the care and respect of those whose 'cause' he had supported with everything he had.

"Yes," she proclaimed self-assuredly. "Yes, I do." And it felt right to say it aloud; and in that moment something inside her relaxed and calmed. She felt ready and able to sleep now… for a short while, at least.

Before the Headmistress could respond the floo suddenly flared to life and a package was carefully levitated through and gently deposited upon the hearth.

"Excuse me a minute, Phoebe," she said, pushing herself to her feet to retrieve the brown wrapped box clearly labelled 'St Mungo's Potions'. "I need to take these out to Poppy."

She paused at the door and turned back to the Muggle woman now fighting to keep her eyes open.

"Don't think badly of me, Phoebe… Severus has spent a great deal of effort preventing all of us from getting to know the real _him_. I have to say that as a result of the bitterness, anger and regret when he was a youngster, and in more recent times the ugliness of his choices regarding the war, I have always had this tiny wish that Severus would eventually find the peace and love that was always so conspicuously missing from his life. It always seemed a shame that a man with _that_ capacity to be so passionate about the things most meaningful to him would not have the chance to discover what it was to _love_ and _be loved_. It is a weight lifted from my heart to see he has finally managed to do so."

With another quick smile she left the room. And by the time she returned Phoebe had sunk into a deep sleep.

Severus came awake rather groggily, yet his whole body seemed to be thrumming in pain and quavering with shock… it was a very disconcerting circumstance.

He groaned and moments later the fuzzy profile of the Medi-witch hovered closely over him.

"Hello there, Severus. Relax now, you're doing fine. Among others, I have a pain potion and the _Adicio Gelu_ tonic for your internal burns. _That_ one first, I think," she suggested, her voice echoing and dim as though coming to him from a long distance through a tunnel.

He felt himself being lifted upright slightly and supported in order to drink easier from the phials being offered. Swallowing was difficult; his whole throat felt swollen and tight, and unbelievably painful. He whimpered against his will and choked on the liquid; panicking slightly and grasping a bit desperately out at anything he could find within his arm's length.

Poppy Pomfrey recoiled hastily out of his reach.

"Easy mate," a male voice crooned from somewhere behind his range of vision, and strong arms were suddenly restraining his flailing limbs firmly, yet with care.

"_Swallow_, Severus," Poppy stressed to him, returning to her previous close position now the danger had passed. Her warm hands were gently coaxing his reflex by stroking lightly down each side of his neck. "Good lad."

It took several mouthfuls of varying degrees of success to get the entire dose down his throat and into his stomach. He was allowed a few minutes rest as the potion was given time to take effect, and then he was assisted to swallow the pain potion - he recognised the bitter, tangy medicine easily and welcomed the promise of relief it offered – followed by another measure each of what the Matron identified as the venom antidote and _Blood Replenisher_.

He was feeling very emotional by now; any remnant of stony control had been eroded by what seemed like hours of pain, anxiety and fear, combined with the very out of control sensation of groggy disorientation. He felt more than one tear slide down his cheek but his current state did not permit him to feel any regret or indignity over them.

The Matron leaned close again and quickly wiped each one away discreetly; sweeping back his hair and whispering encouragingly and soothingly to him.

Finally, she offered him one last potion, and he was far too woozy to query the phial's contents. Swallowing was far easier without the pain and severe swelling. His throat was far from completely healed, however the tight, restrictive movement had thankfully been somewhat eased.

He was then settled back onto his soft pillow and encouraged to rest.

"Sleep now, Severus. When you wake up you'll feel much better," the Medi-witch assured, her voice gradually dimming to a blurred hum before the dark man drifted back into the darkness of induced slumber.

The next time the man woke he was substantially more pain free and infinitely more cognisant. It was quiet and the light infiltrating the ward indicated it was somewhere near dawn. Or dusk, he supposed; it was possible he _could_ have been asleep that long, he decided.

He was still exhausted though, he noted; understanding immediately that his body must still be far from recovered fully. Beginning with his toes Severus tested each of his extremities to determine just where he currently stood physically; strength and health wise.

His injured leg twinged horribly when he tried to move the limb and he resolved not to attempt that again for at least another day or two.

The slight sound of discomfort he'd made had evidently alerted the chaperone Severus hadn't yet noticed had been lightly dozing in the chair beside the bed to his right. Phoebe was leaning over him carefully and full of concern within moments.

"How are you feeling?" she asked anxiously.

Severus sighed softly. "Much better, believe me," he replied, his own relief more than evident.

"How's you leg?" Phoebe asked him.

"Still quite sore if I try to move it, but otherwise there is no pain."

Poppy Pomfrey happened to enter through the curtain at that moment and heard his declaration. "I am pleased to hear it, Severus," she said in her usual brusque manner. "Now, I just want to have another little look see… just to make sure we are keeping any chance of infection at bay," she explained, reaching for the dressing on his propped up leg.

Severus huffed out a nervous breath. He wasn't looking forward to more discomfort.

"Don't fret, my dear," she reassured him, "I won't be touching or 'wand waving' – Merlin knows how you detest that – I'm only looking for now." Poppy glanced at him with a slightly mischievous smirk, clearly alluding to the now infamous speech he delivered to all nervous, and often fearful, first year students at the beginning of their very first Potions lesson year in, year out during his post as Potions Master. The woman had never made a secret of her displeasure at his methods of handling the students; but he firmly believed in establishing authority and control early on, especially with the seriousness of the Potions subject, and _foolish wand waving_, as he had worded it, was a recipe for disaster in the Potions classroom.

Severus did his best to glare back at her, not wishing to give the old biddy the satisfaction of mocking him with his own blessing.

With a light nod the medi-witch turned her attention to his injured leg, her expression now rather smug despite his tactic.

"What?" Phoebe queried, not understanding the exchange in the slightest.

Severus turned his head to face her. He shook his head, denying the topic its importance.

"Wand waving?" Phoebe asked anyway. She sighed in melancholy. "I wish I could do it… I feel a bit useless in the face of what you all can achieve with wands and magic," she said, indicating around her in a vague manner with allusion to the Wizarding community.

Phoebe's statement triggered something in the recesses of Severus' mind and he rapidly recalled Phoebe's miraculous and life-saving use of _his_ wand against the Dark Lord.

He eyed her intently. "How did you do it?" he asked, in a rare state of complete loss for explanation. This sense of missing knowledge was causing him to feel very uneasy.

Phoebe displayed every ounce of confusion for his meaning.

"Do what?" she asked in return, sensing his disquiet and in turn igniting her own apprehension.

"Magic… Expelliarmus… my wand?" he said, pinning her gaze with his, now noticeably disturbed.

The tone and topic captured Madam Pomfrey's attention. She ceased her examination of his leg and took a shuffle-step toward the head of the bed with some concern, especially for her apparently troubled patient.

"Severus…" she began, her gaze shifting between the two in the middle of intense conversation. "Phoebe is a _Muggle_… she cannot perform magic. Have you a head injury I was not aware of? You seem confused."

"No!" he responded firmly, not once taking his eyes away from Phoebe. "I saw it… with my own eyes… or I would not be here."

"I… I don't know, Severus," Phoebe answered him, her gaze sincere.

Pomfrey switched her interest and concern to the woman across from her.

"What are you saying, Phoebe… you performed _magic_?" she questioned, curiosity and unease equally present in her tone.

Phoebe nodded. "Yes… well, I don't know what happened. I mean, I was bluffing… but then, I just felt I would be able to… so I just did it." Phoebe shrugged, unable to give further explanation.

Poppy turned back to Severus who was still eyeing Phoebe intently. "I think one of you had better tell me what happened exactly," she said briskly. "Severus…?"

Severus finally ceased his intense gaze upon the woman and turned to the witch to his left.

"I was pinned; the Dark Lord was mere moments away from divesting me of my _life_. Phoebe had somehow come into possession of my wand… she cast _Expelliarmus_ and invoked the magic… she disarmed the fiend. I'd taught her the spell… but that was months ago, merely for interest and her entertainment… I never thought…" Severus stopped in his account, emotions beginning to resurface as he faced the fact that Phoebe had effectively and undeniably saved his life.

"Okay," the Matron soothed, nodding. "Now, are you certain the spell came from Phoebe's wand… there was no-one else perhaps behind her?"

Severus glared at the medi-witch, irate at not being believed as though he was some dunderhead student. "I _saw_ it!" he reiterated sharply, making sure he got his point across.

"_Alright_, Severus," she said, her voice leaden with a warning tone. "And now your version, Phoebe… is there anything to add? What did you feel?" the Matron asked, turning to the Muggle woman.

Phoebe thought back to that horrible moment when she thought Severus was about to die and what she had experienced.

"Severus is right… it did come from the wand I was holding. There was this red gush of light, I saw it too. But, it wasn't _me_… I'm not a witch. It must have been the wand," she offered, slightly hysterically.

Poppy sent her a patient, yet patronising, look. "Phoebe, wands do not contain magic… they are merely a tool for directing it, nothing more," she explained.

Irritated by the condescending way Poppy had addressed Phoebe, Severus snapped at her. "Well _what_ then… what do you suggest is the explanation?"

"Now calm down the both of you!" the medi-witch immediately reprimanded firmly, refusing to take any nonsense. "We will work this out, but not if you cannot remain composed."

Thoroughly admonished, both Severus and Phoebe remained silent, dipping their heads in shame. Severus sucked in a deep breath to calm himself further.

Satisfied, the medi-witch continued. "Now, what did you feel, Phoebe?"

"Look, I'm not a witch… it can't have come from me," she insisted, shaking her head. "The wand was…" Phoebe paused, searching for the right description, "it was… thrumming… pulsing. I could literally feel the power when I touched it."

Both Poppy and Severus were quiet while they each contemplated Phoebe's proclamation.

"Hmm…" the Matron suddenly intoned. "I have a theory," she added guardedly.

Phoebe and Severus both looked to her questioningly.

The medi-witch, however, continued on with her own set of further inquiries.

"Is this the first time you've held Severus' wand… or any wand, for that matter?"

"Er… no. There was one other time I had the wand," Phoebe answered honestly.

"And how did the experience differ, if at all?"

Severus was scowling with impatience and the sense of irrelevancy and wasted time, but he managed to resist interrupting.

"Um… well, the wand did vibrate a tiny bit back then. It was months ago… but it was nowhere near as strong as last night," Phoebe offered, looking a little shaken at the memory.

Shocked, Severus gaped at Phoebe. She had certainly not shared that fact with him all those months ago. At the time he'd chalked up her distress when she'd returned from retrieving his wand from Hogwarts to her encounter with Hagrid… but it was looking like that might not have been the case.

'No wonder she refused to take my wand from me when I was teaching her the spells that time when I'd come to visit,' he thought, feeling a little hurt that Phoebe had not felt comfortable explaining the reason to him. Severus also remembered that incident had nearly led to a quarrel, and he felt even more disheartened by her apparent mistrust.

"Uh huh," the medi-witch intoned again. "Tell me about the lead up to the magic last night," she prompted Phoebe, and Severus intently listened for the woman's response, no longer doubtful of the relevancy of the Matron's questions.

"What, all of it?" Phoebe questioned, her distress at the medi-witch's request obvious.

"No," Poppy said, taking pity on the poor, traumatised, Muggle woman who'd recently been through the wringer, "just the few minutes right before it will do for now."

Relieved, Phoebe thought for a few moments before she began her recollections.

"Er…"

"She'd been tortured," Severus interjected succinctly. "Cruciatus, courtesy of the Dark Lord" he added quite bitterly.

Poppy looked quite shocked and alarmed at the information.

Phoebe nodded in agreement and took a breath to continue the tale. "I was having labour pains quite regularly and as Remus was trying to get me to safety I heard Severus scream. I automatically ran toward him. I know it was foolish, but I just couldn't leave him."

Phoebe let out a shuddering breath.

"That monster was leaning over him. I ran over to get Severus' wand… I could see it lying in the snow… and I shouted at him to stop. I was trying to work out how to get the wand to him… that bastard was about to kill him. The wand was thrumming with power, I could feel it."

Phoebe's relation of the story was becoming disjointed as she became more and more upset, but neither audience member interrupted her.

"He hurt me… but I think it was more for Severus' benefit. It was almost like he hadn't put his heart into it… like I hardly mattered. It was still painful, but I was able to think through it, that's all."

Phoebe wiped away a tear that had escaped and tracked down her cheek.

Severus swallowed thickly, reminded of the horror he'd felt at the time.

"I just knew I needed to do something… our time was running out. After he hurt me the second time the wand felt as though it was about to explode… and the idea to see if I could use it just came to me. I just had to try… it was as simple as that."

Poppy herself swiped at a stray tear running down her own face.

"The power felt as though it pooled in my centre and just launched out of me through the wand. Afterwards I couldn't feel anything. The thrumming was gone. And then my waters broke. And that's it," Phoebe finished.

Awe struck, Madam Pomfrey took several moments to respond.

"I think…" she began, "I think I have an explanation."

Severus and Phoebe looked at each other for a moment where a silent message of reassurance was passed between them.

"It is rare in the first instance that a Muggle woman would carry a child of a Wizard, so whilst what I have read of this phenomenon is not unusual in itself, it is not very well known. _Women_ of our kind are simply more likely to seek a partner outside our world than are our men, so normally the Muggle half of the couple is the man, and the female is the witch, therefore any incidents are not likely to be noticed by the pregnant woman."

Severus frowned slightly, attempting to follow the explanation and logic being offered.

"Now, most Muggle women who do carry magical children never have an opportunity to hold a wand at the time, usually because the father is also a Muggle and therefore they are never exposed to our world until the children begin at Hogwarts at age eleven. Those who are Muggle, carrying a magical child and have regular contact with a Wizard and therefore an opportunity to hold a wand are few and far between. However, that said, the 'thrumming', as you put it, of the child's magic through a wand _can_ be detected by the pregnant mother and has been documented before."

Madam Pomfrey paused to observe her minimal audience while they caught up with her elucidation and what it meant for them. Severus got there first.

"So… the child has magic?" he confirmed hesitantly, "Seraphoena is a _witch_?"

Poppy nodded, a small smile shaping her lips. "Congratulations, Severus," she offered with a small wink.

The dark man couldn't help but smile himself and breathe a gentle sigh of relief. He was definitely happy not to have the worry of whether his child was a squib until the first signs of magical ability revealed themselves normally somewhere between the ages of three through to ten.

Phoebe, on the other hand, had just caught up and was reacting in an entirely opposite manner.

"What!" she yelped out in a shrill tone, launching herself to her feet.

Severus had to admit he had failed to anticipate this reaction and had never thought to discuss the probability with Phoebe that their baby would likely be magical. It had never really occurred to him that she would _not_ just assume the baby would be like him, as he had. Your child being a squib was not something you generally worried about until after the birth and were waiting impatiently for some sign; though obviously not unheard of, the incidents of true squibs was rare.

Poppy had clearly not anticipated Phoebe's reaction either. Her face had drained of blood as she realised her faux pas.

"No… she can't be! She can't be… she's mine. How am I supposed to raise her like that! She has to be like me! How could that happen?" She was crying hysterically, with rivers of tears splashing down her face, and her tortured arguments had descended into inaudible mumbling and wailing.

Phoebe was losing it, clearly the building stress of the past eight months and the horrendous climax of recent dramas and pushed her to the edge and now this was the last straw that tipped her off the cliff.

"Phoebe, it's okay," Severus called out to her, but she was far too worked up to listen to him and as he could not get out of bed to force her to calm down there was effectively nothing he could do about it. The situation stung him more than he would care to admit; for to _him_ it was almost as though Phoebe was rejecting who his daughter _was_… a nasty and toxic replication of what his own Muggle father had seemed to do to him.

"It's alright, Severus… I'll handle this. She'll be fine; Phoebe's just had a bit of a shock on top of the horrors and rollercoaster of emotions of the past couple of days. It's going to be fine," the Matron quietly assured him with a pat to his shoulder before she strode around the bed and embraced the distressed, new mother.

"Come now, pet, its okay! This is most certainly not the end of the world and more assuredly not deserving of all these tears. You'll see this is a good thing. In fact it's a great thing… and I'll tell you why. Come on… shh…" The Matron rubber her hand over her back soothingly until Phoebe began to calm down.

It only took a few more minutes before Madam Pomfrey was guiding the exhausted Muggle woman back into her chair. She sat looking drained and devoid of emotion, but she was quiet and amply responsive for the medi-witch to continue the explanation she had previously interrupted to allow the new parents to celebrate the news for a moment.

"Now, it's a good thing baby Seraphoena is a witch… and above all else this is the reason to be thankful for it… for if she weren't; you would, all three of you, be _dead_."

Severus, though already listening, reeled at the candour of the Matron's explanation and regarded her even more attentively. Phoebe gazed at the older woman in alarm, quietly waiting for her to continue.

"I think the burst of magic that you by chance directed, Phoebe, was an automatic survival response by your very distressed and ailing unborn baby. And therefore, your lives were saved by the timely coincidence and emergence of your child's magical ability. I also believe that were she not magical she would not have survived her birth. It was touch and go as it was… she is very small and did not escape injury as well as one might have hoped whilst protected in the womb. I would like to think the magic imbued within her helped preserve her life until I was able to take over. It is by the grace of Merlin that you still have her. I hope you can be grateful for her gifts… for they have been gifts for all of you."


	55. Chapter 55  An Old Prejudice

_**OMG - how long did this chapter take to drag from my mind. I am sorry for the delay, but this one was a hard one. I seem to have lost a little direction for this and am struggling to develop ways and ideas to tie up all those loose ends in an interesting and fluid way. Not to mention remember all the loose ends for inclusion. Anyway, enough whinging - I will plug on and try to do my best.**_

**_Now, last we left them Phoebe had reacted negatively to discovering her new baby girl was magical... let's see whether she was able to come to terms with it..._**

**_And, as always, you know I love to hear from you - all comments will be greatly appreciated!_**

**_:D _**

**Chapter 55** – _An Old Prejudice_

Severus huffed out a shaky breath; shocked at the gravity Phoebe's decision to attempt magic held, and the consequences had she chosen _not_ to embrace the new life she'd been thrown into since the day their paths had crossed.

"Do you understand what I am saying, Phoebe?" the Matron directed at the silent mother.

Phoebe blinked hastily, trying to find words to describe her thoughts. "But, what if I don't know what to do… I can't do what she needs… this is ludicrous." she blurted, completely overwhelmed by the whole situation.

"Don't make this more complicated than it need be… you have raised a baby before, haven't you? And what is new and different, you will learn. Seraphoena's needs are not beyond you as a Muggle… you are her _mother_."

Severus looked up when Poppy alluded to Phoebe's past, wondering how she could know.

Phoebe appeared scared and shell-shocked, and on one hand Severus felt as though he ought to reach out to her, to remind her that he would be present to deal with Seraphoena's magical needs, but then an aged hurt raised its head and prevented him from doing so. An _old_ prejudice that dictated acceptance, love and trust in his life made him hold off until he would be _sure_ this woman would truly accept him for who he was. The sharp sting of her reluctance to accept their child as magical made him wonder if anyone could ever genuinely embrace those who were considered different. And instantly he was quite furious.

He swallowed thickly and gained the Medi-witch's attention with a small clearing of his throat.

"Would you give us a few minutes, Madam Pomfrey?" he asked a little stiffly, and the witch hesitated momentarily before sending him a dubious look, as if it was against her better judgement, before she nodded shortly and complied.

"I will be back in a moment," she agreed, and after ensuring his injured leg was covered sufficiently she made her way past the curtain.

Severus watched her go a little impatiently, but when the older woman had rounded the curtain, he abruptly turned on Phoebe…

"Why are you acting like this?" he bit out, resentment and frustration sharpening his tone.

Shocked, Phoebe caught his angry gaze. "What? I'm just-"

"You know what I mean… has the shine worn off, are we no longer worthy of a Muggle's reverence?" The accusation was way over the top, but Severus had never been particularly good at self restraint when truly upset.

"What? What are you talking about…?" Phoebe answered, hurt and confusion making her voice quiver as she spoke.

"I can take care of her myself if need be… Seraphoena need not complicate your life further," the dark man added, unreasonably.

He could see that he'd hit the mark when he saw Phoebe's face crease with wounded disbelief. On one hand he felt justified having been able to create in her the same sting he'd felt moments ago, yet the reasonable part of his mind screamed at him to shut his foolhardy mouth.

"What do you mean 'complicate'? Severus-" Phoebe replied, but again Severus did not allow her to finish.

"You don't _want_ her… you don't want _me_, and I can't allow you to put our daughter in the same position my mother and I had to endure." Evidently the reasonable part of his mind had lost the battle, the poisonous words kept spilling from his mouth without full permission; bitter and burning.

Phoebe stared incredulously at him, a horrified expression blossoming over her face. "You cannot _allow_ me…? What are you suggesting?" she asked, aghast.

"I can't let you hurt her… us," he responded, his own hurt from his childhood leaching out into his tone. "Seraphoena _is_ like me… and she cannot be denied her magical heritage - you cannot stop it!"

Her face twisting in emotion, Phoebe looked on the verge of tears. "Why are you saying this, Severus?" she said with a hitch of her breath. "I would never-"

Again he didn't allow her to complete her comment.

"It can't work, it never does… you're a _Muggle_, you obviously can't understand," he said bluntly, even hating himself for what he _knew_ was absolute tripe flowing from his mouth. But he was afraid, terrified of how much power she possessed with which to hurt him. Not physically like his father, of course… but emotionally… her apparent rejection of the magic he had passed down to his daughter had stabbed at an already tender part of his soul and the possibility of history repeating itself only fuelled the fear that prompted him to strike pre-emptively.

Phoebe gasped, and stared at the man lying in front of her. It was clear now that he still had issues about Muggles… stemming from his childhood, his father, the way he was treated. It had led him at one time down a very hateful path; and it was apparent that despite his change of heart he'd still never fully resolved the matter internally.

However, instead of trying to work it out now, Severus seemed to be being deliberately hurtful, cruel; pushing her away. Maybe he was just testing her loyalty, her devotion, Phoebe considered, but that was no excuse! She would not allow him to speak of her like this; undermining her own deductions and feelings about Wizards and Muggles. She felt she'd more than proved herself, her momentary fear and denial of her baby daughter's ability had nothing at all to do with prejudice; he was being unreasonable!

"I'm not going to talk to you when you're behaving like this," she muttered grimly. "I'll come back later when you've shed that vicious skin you wear for that _animal_ you call 'Lord'," Phoebe retaliated spitefully, forming a sneer at the thought of the Dark Lord.

It was as if Severus had been slapped in the face when Phoebe said that. The judgement definitely stung his pride, his honour…especially coming from her.

"How dare yo-" he growled, his jaw tense with fury, but this time Phoebe interrupted before _he_ could finish; silencing him immediately. She leapt to her feet and loomed over him; in his condition he could do nothing to level the balance.

"How dare I?" she shrieked back, full of emotional and righteous fury. "How dare _you_! I have been there for you the whole time… I given up so much for you, watched you suffer, tried so hard to make things easier for you; and for that I now have to endure more mistrust? You know Seraphoena means the world to me, no matter what she might be… you _know_ it, and you know _why_!" she added very emotionally, her voice wobbling as it clawed at her throat. "I can't believe you might try to take her away…" and then she lost the battle with the tears. Phoebe began to sob and turned away to flee the curtained area, but she didn't make it far. She instantly felt dizzy and faint after only two steps, and clung to the bed sheets for stability with a gasp. She looked back at the man lying scowling on the bed, imploring him to notice something was wrong.

"Sev…?" she pleaded, before her eyes rolled back in her head.

As if in slow motion Severus witnessed her begin to fall and was instantly yanked from the ludicrous state of mind that was fuelling the bitterness and hurt.

"Oh hell…" he growled, and despite the probability of great pain he twisted himself in the bed, accidentally kicking the bedside cabinet and upsetting a glass jug of water. It fell from bench and crashed loudly to the stone floor, but ignoring it he quickly launched himself in Phoebe's direction; catching her by the tips of his fingers with one hand barely in time to prevent her plummet to the hard floor.

He cried out, grunted and gasped as his leg first flashed with pain viciously and then continued to throb even when he had stilled, but he did not relinquish his grasp under Phoebe's arm. His torso was hanging over the edge of the bed and her weight was dragging him slowly further off – he would soon land in a heap beside Phoebe, if not on top of her.

'I'm an idiot… I'm sorry,' he thought suddenly, feeling wholly regretful. He gritted his teeth against his physical torment and with a determined grunt grabbed on to the far side of the mattress with his free hand to try to hold them both up for as long as he could.

Within moments the curtain was flung open and Poppy Pomfrey and several others stormed in, their sweeping gazes taking in the scene.

"What in Merlin's name is going on in here!" Poppy demanded in a severe tone.

"Help…" Severus murmured pleadingly, squeezing his eyes shut as the effort needed to support Phoebe's weight with one arm began to surpass his strength.

Remus had reacted quickly and had begun to lever Phoebe from her dangling, partially slumped position between the bed and the floor. Severus still refused to release her, so rather than fight against the extra weight Remus inched her limp body toward the bed as Severus pulled. She moaned a little as she was manipulated onto the mattress, but did not gain full wakefulness.

When she was safely ensconced on the mattress beside him, Severus allowed himself to react to his own condition, throwing his head back in pain with a grimaced hiss and groan. Poppy reached for him, but he swept her hands away from him, gesturing for her to attend to Phoebe instead.

"What happened?" she demanded again, turning her attention to the unconscious woman instead at Snape's blunt insistence.

"She just suddenly fainted," Severus managed to explain through gritted teeth, breathing heavily.

The witch gasped and then clicked her tongue once in reprimand. "Yes, well I'm not surprised… Phoebe's been through a horrific ordeal, alongside her almost constant worry for you, and then add on top of that a recent traumatic birth, Severus. And, I might add, we could hear the yelling from your quarrel through the closed door of my office. What on earth did you _say_ to her!" she snapped, sending the grimacing man an admonishing look.

He turned away from her furious gaze; closing his eyes against the pain coursing through his leg and wishing it would do the same for the shame and guilt burning in his gut.

Poppy shook her head, already imagining the worst. "You know, contrary to what you may believe Severus, it _can_ be difficult for a Muggle to come to terms with a magical child even in the best of circumstances… and with all else the pair of you have been through last night… honestly! One would think you'd comprehend her apprehension at least – she needs you to _support_ her, not for you to pick her to pieces because she dared not feel thrilled at what magic folk might consider magnificent news!"

Feeling entirely wretched inside and out Severus didn't respond. It was incredible just how close Madam Pomfrey's assessment had come to the truth. He had been a fool; Phoebe represented no threat at all to him or their daughter. He'd wrongfully seen a correlation between his father's jealous and resentful attitude and Phoebe's fear of not being able to provide for a magical child. Thinking more clearly now Severus could see the comparison was entirely illogical… Phoebe had more than proven her acceptance of him and the Wizarding world over the previous long, often fear-provoking months. He had certainly been a fool to judge her!

Not to mention neither of them was yet anywhere near one hundred percent after the previous day's ordeal and it was idiotic to try to have such conversations whilst they were both so emotionally affected and drained. He was still huffing with the physical strain and the hitch in his breath revealed the emotional toll too.

"I trust you have had a bit of a wakeup call and I do not have to treat you like children and separate you?" the Matron continued tersely, her hands busily assessing her patient.

Severus' eyes sprung open in alarm, clutching unconsciously at the portion of Phoebe's hospital wing issue dressing gown beneath his hand. "No… don't. I know… I get it," he blurted contritely, not feeling as though he would handle being separated after the shock of this incident.

"Is she alright?" he asked after another few moments catching his breath.

After another several seconds Poppy finally answered him. "Yes, I think so… probably just a combination of a few things… exhaustion and this upset being part of it, but I can find nothing wrong that I am not already treating. However she needs rest and care!"

Poppy stopped her succession of spells and charms, seemingly satisfied. "She is a little frail right now, despite appearances, Severus; and there are the demands of a new, tiny infant pressing on her too."

The Matron stopped her lecture to glance at Severus who by now looked thoroughly worn out, worried and enormously guilty.

"She's alright for now, Severus… but I'll keep checking to be sure," she assured the anxious man.

"It is lucky that you caught her before she hit the ground, well done… we certainly don't need further injury added to the list," Poppy insisted, but Severus barely reacted to the praise. He was clearly caught up in his own thoughts.

She peered at him a little more closely, noting the lines of suffering etched into his features.

"How's your pain?" she asked him, feeling a little regretful for the harsh tone she'd taken with the man who clearly wasn't at his best either.

"Fine," he replied, almost mechanically. Poppy certainly did not believe him, but felt now was not the time to push… any discomfort he was feeling would likely settle on its own if he avoided further aggravation.

"It's going to be okay, Severus… you'll see," she assured him softly. "I'm going to let Phoebe continue to sleep for now… and you get some more rest too, that baby needs both of you. I will check your leg later."

With that she produced her wand and magically enlarged the bed into a double. Poppy reached over and took his hand, encouraged him to carefully roll slightly toward her, carefully positioning a pillow beneath his injured leg, and laid his arm protectively over Phoebe's now mostly deflated waist.

"From what I've been told you've done very admirably so far, but Phoebe needs for you to continue to be her champion, Severus… and in return she'll be yours." Poppy eyed him a little longer until he nodded an acknowledgement. She busied herself with lightly covering them both with the blankets.

At some stage the others who had arrived at the commotion had left and drawn the curtains closed; Poppy left through them a few moments later.

Severus turned his face to Phoebe and nuzzled slightly closer, kissing her lightly on her temple. She moaned slightly in her sleep and rolled further into his embrace, making him feel somewhat heartened.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to her so softly as to hardly be heard. "I can be what you need me to be, I can. And I will never take Seraphoena from you… because… mostly because we both need you," he added with a short sigh, the spoken words serving as a promise. He then closed his eyes and joined her in sleep.

S.S

The bleating sound of a crying infant woke them both about an hour and a half later.

"I tried to hold her off for as long as I could… to let you both get some more rest… but, well, as you can see little Seraphoena was having none of that," Minerva McGonagall said over the top of the wailing, standing just inside the curtain partition.

Severus, now he was faring better physically, suddenly began to feel more self-conscious with his former colleague in the room, as he was still practically naked beneath the bed covers.

"Its fine, Minerva," he said, hoping she would hand over his child and exit quite swiftly.

Phoebe extricated herself from his embrace and sat up, looking at him and her surroundings a little perplexed.

"When di-"

"You fainted," Severus immediately explained, his expression he moulded to be apologetic.

Phoebe stared at him for a moment. "We were arguing," she stated.

Severus swallowed. "Yes… but I won't anymore. I was wrong," he admitted, hoping she would forgive him.

Phoebe looked slightly surprised at his admission, but her expression remained pleasant much to Severus' relief.

We're going to have to talk about everything… later though," she insisted softly, and he agreed with a nod. She then looked toward the Headmistress holding the howling infant.

"She's hungry… I better go feed her," she commented, beginning to shift the covers off her legs in order to slip out of the bed.

"Phoebe," he said softly, and she halted and looked at him questioningly. "Don't go, please… nurse her here," he suggested, wanting her to stay and also suddenly feeling excitement about the possibility of spending more time with his new daughter.

With Minerva looking entirely too interested in their exchange Severus felt a little uncomfortable; it seemed as though the woman was measuring his and Phoebe's relationship somehow. He certainly did not want her interference; he knew very well that Minerva's perception of him would be coloured by what she'd seen of his behaviour when he was in the thick of his deception as spy. Right now he honestly did not want to fight against the reputation that he'd cultivated for that very purpose, and wished for the witch to keep her opinions to herself so Phoebe might not be influenced by them.

In a hope it might give them both more privacy to sort through their issues Severus gestured for the older woman to bring the crying baby closer.

"I want to watch… er, learn… and help," he amended self consciously.

After a short contemplation (and a small smirk at his gaff), that he hurried along by grasping her hand in his, she agreed with a nod and Severus barely kept a full blown smile from stretching his lips.

As Minerva brought the baby around and passed her over to her mother Severus tried to shuffle himself backwards in the bed to give Phoebe more room, but was brought up short by the stab of pain that bit deep into his leg – apparently although the man was feeling overall better, his leg was still very tender. The smile that had made it to his face immediately vanished as he was physically reminded of the extent of his injury, he scrunched his eyes closed and held his breath in a bid to endure the pain more stoically.

Unfortunately vivid memories of the moment his leg was impaled the previous night accompanied the pain now that he was focused more inwardly. He gasped softly, affected by the recollections more than he could have realised.

"Merlin…" he breathed, wondering just how he'd managed to go on and collect the final protected horcrux last night when he must have been feeling at least this amount of pain and torment right after having been through such an ordeal. The moments with the Dark Lord had certainly been traumatic enough even without his run in with the snake! Not to mention he'd apparently ceased breathing for a time he only now recalled.

He silently marvelled at how he had managed to scrape up the energy and determination – as after all, he'd nearly _died_, or so he'd been told.

A cool hand touched the bare skin on his side gaining his attention and he opened his eyes expecting Phoebe, but instead found Minerva leaning over him, her face set with a concerned expression.

"I've sent for Poppy, she's having a lie down. However she said you'd be due for more potions by the time you woke and to fetch her when you did. How are you feeling?" she asked, squeezing her fingers against his ribs lightly, almost as if prompting a response.

It was an altogether far too personal contact for him to feel entirely at ease. The pair had never had that close of a relationship during his tenure at Hogwarts. Their friendship, if you could even have labelled it as such, consisted of a healthy rivalry between their respective houses and solidarity as teachers against tiresome students, but nothing more had developed; no doubt because the parameters of his spy obligations left no room for closeness to anyone. To now experience this unusual familiarity with the older witch confused and troubled him more than he might have expected.

"I am barely dressed, Minerva," he commented with a pained huff, hinting at the inappropriateness of the situation.

After a moment of confusion she practically laughed at him. "Oh, Severus, I am hardly about to ravage you… I am far too old, and you are far too young to have piqued my interest," she quipped. "Now, I asked you how you are feeling… kindly answer me please," she insisted, her tone light enough to express her humour, but firm enough to ensure she got her answer this time.

A little embarrassed at her teasing Severus bit out a response. "I need something for pain," he admitted, glancing quickly at the covers; wishing he could surreptitiously yank them up higher to cover his chest.

"Okay, well Poppy is on her way… just lie still." Professor McGonagall gave another light squeeze with her fingers and moved away just enough for Severus to glimpse Phoebe sitting in the chair beside the bed nursing Seraphoena.

His eyes took in the sight and the disappointment of wishing she'd remained beside him in the bed to feed melted away. There would be time enough to experience that in the coming weeks, he hoped.

It suddenly occurred to Severus that Minerva might have been the only other person here. She'd just told them Poppy was catching up on sleep.

"Where is everyone?" he asked, and specifically Harry Potter came to mind. Unlike Severus, Potter's part in this war was not over. He felt a twang of sympathy for the boy… he probably felt an equal, if not heavier, burden upon his young shoulders than Severus had.

"Arthur and Molly have taken the children up to the Gryffindor dorms. Potter especially seemed exhausted… I hardly think he's had more than a few hours sleep each night for weeks since he left the school," Minerva explained with pity. "Then Arthur and Molly left to see to the rest of the family. It must be hard for them trying to keep a track of everyone, especially with them all spread across the country," Minerva added sympathetically. "Remus and Tonks have gone to rest in my quarters."

"Luna Lovegood is still here… she's in the bed across the room," the witch said, gesturing in the direction of the young Ravenclaw's bed. "Poor girl, she might be scarred for life, Poppy's doing all she can to minimise the damage." she whispered sadly.

"Scarred?" Severus queried apprehensively.

"Yes," Minerva confirmed, nodding, "across her face."

"Oh no," whispered Phoebe, who had been listening to the conversation despite her pre-occupation.

Severus immediately thought of another student who had faced that possibility many months ago and it triggered further contemplation of the boy he'd sent Phoebe off with in the middle of the drama the previous night.

"Where is Draco?" he asked, suddenly worried about the boy's welfare. Had he returned to his family and had to answer for his betrayal? Had he attempted to return to Severus' Spinner's End house and wait for him? Or was he simply sitting disheartened in a gutter somewhere?

Minerva's face first displayed thoughtful confusion, but quickly morphed into horrified realisation.

"Oh my word," she began in dismay, "I locked him in an empty classroom in the next corridor, you see I was doubtful of the boy's allegiances and sincerity to begin with, but then… well, with all the excitement, and the baby to watch over I… well, I forgot about him."


	56. Chapter 56  Worth It

_**Long time no see... for that I apologise.**_

_**Poor Draco was locked up and forgotten... what mood would that have put him in? Can he be trusted?**_

_**Enjoy and please review...**_

_**:D**_

**Chapter 56**_– Worth It_

Severus' jaw dropped open; horrified and furious and astounded at Minerva's forgetful gaffe. Whilst he understood, and was even in accordance with, the Headmistress's decision of initial mistrust of the boy, it was the fact that she'd left the child locked up for hours since discovering the truth without even giving him a thought that had him feeling incredulous and exasperated.

However, he knew he could hardly comment, he'd not given the boy any thought until now either… and _he_ had Draco to thank for Phoebe's, and consequently his newborn daughter's, survival and safety. He threw his head back and huffed out a sigh.

"Oh no… I assumed he'd left. I'm sorry, Severus… I didn't even think to ask about him," Phoebe apologised, evidently feeling at least some regret and responsibility herself.

Severus lifted his head and found Minerva's gaze again. "I should see him…explain… see that he's alright. Albus entreated me to look out for the boy… he is my responsibility."

Professor McGonagall kept the gaze with Severus, seriously contemplating her ex-colleagues claim.

"Are you sure you can trust him, Severus? I mean, with _this_," she began, indicating to Phoebe and the suckling infant, "he's proven himself, obviously… but in the long run this is Lucius and Narcissa's son… and Bellatrix's nephew we're talking about; these connections alone are infinitely dangerous for you… for _all_ of us, really."

Severus nodded, understanding entirely what she was suggesting.

"I rather think those connections might be more dangerous for _him _at the current time though," he offered instead, thinking of the presently strained, tenuous relationship between Draco and some of his family; and especially if they discovered this latest betrayal and defection. Therefore Severus decided that Draco deserved at least the opportunity to prove his dependability.

"Besides," he continued, "I owe him this chance, I suppose… I can hardly deny him that, can I?"

Minerva's expression, whilst at first doubtful and concerned, soon relaxed into one of resigned compassion. "Yes well, I suppose you're right given the circumstances," she agreed, smiling gently at the new mother and baby bonding during feeding in the chair beside the bed. "Let Poppy finally see to your leg and I'll go get him. Don't worry, he's housed in a classroom in the corridor over, but the house-elves would not have let him starve all this time."

.

Poppy arrived shortly to administer a range of potions, including a strong pain draught that effectively took almost all of his pain away. Severus could hardly express the relief of finally being free of the discomfort of varying degrees that had seemed to have become a constant companion to him for many days now.

The Matron cleaned all his wounds, applied various healing spells and salves before wrapping his injured leg in fresh bandages.

Phoebe finished feeding their infant daughter and left to deal with the very thick, wet sounding noise (which in Severus' opinion had no business coming from such a delicate, little, female body) that had erupted within Seraphoena's nappy.

"There," the Matron announced as she finished, patting her hand lightly upon his shin. "But take it easy, Severus… the wound is not yet fully mended and overdoing yourself will only delay the healing," Poppy warned, knowing immediately this man would take advantage of feeling better to escape the confines of the hospital wing.

Severus was nodding agreeably, though to Poppy he appeared a tad dismissive, whilst already shifting his legs over the edge of the bed.

"I mean it lad, it's important… you are lucky you did not lose your leg, not to mention your life!" Poppy continued to glare adamantly at him until he met her eyes and gave her instructions their due regard.

"How long before I'll be able to walk?" he asked, already considering how long he would be stuck in the uncomfortable hospital bed.

"A few weeks at least…"

He looked horrified, "Weeks!" he exclaimed, but Poppy quickly assuaged his concern, knowing he wasn't the type to like to sit idle for very long.

"… but I'll get you up on crutches perhaps today or tomorrow, and then we'll gradually weight-bare until you can use only a _cane_ safely. After that, when you do venture out of bed, you'll use _this_ at all times until I say otherwise," she insisted pompously. With that she plucked a stick, not unlike a wand, from her matronly apron and transfigured it into a sturdy, traditional, walking cane; holding it out to the dismayed man. Her intention of providing it early was motivational in nature; she knew it would be physically and mentally challenging for him in the coming days.

"How old do you perceive I look?" the dark man sniped, eyeing the aid scornfully.

"Well, stop griping like an old man and you won't be mistaken for one," Poppy threw back cheekily.

He was far from thrilled at being handed such an out dated relic; this cane was eons away from the sleek, sophisticated staff Lucius Malfoy had at one time been seen toting. Nevertheless, Severus took the walking aid knowing he'd likely come to rely heavily on the device despite its lack of style and trend. Besides, he could alter it later when Poppy wasn't looking, he deviously thought.

"Oh, and if you have need of something fresh to wear, or are looking for your wand, take a look in the drawer there," she added, pointing out the cabinet next to him.

He immediately reached to open the drawer she'd indicated and thanked the ghost of Merlin when he saw that a fresh set of his _own_ attire, including a sleek pair of slippers that would be easier for him to slip on for now, filled the drawers, and not ancient, unfashionable robes as he had originally feared. His wand was laid across the top of them.

He looked to Madam Pomfrey and offered his gratitude; for despite the old biddy's frequent, annoying taunts and antiquated taste he appreciated her wisdom and skill. "Thank you," he said with a short nod and a quirk of his mouth.

She offered him a nod in return. "Do you want a hand to dress?" she asked, and despite feeling self-conscious Severus knew he couldn't achieve the task on his own just yet. He nodded.

SSOCSSOC

When Poppy emerged and hooked open the curtains surrounding the bed, Severus was all dressed and groomed (his wand safely and satisfyingly stowed up a black sleeve) sitting comfortably in the bed. Phoebe still hadn't returned and Severus wondered what was keeping her. Surely the job of changing Seraphoena's nappy couldn't have been that demanding… even for a Muggle.

He glanced around the room, appreciating the new view until his gaze landed on the Lovegood girl's bed across from his. Hers was uncurtained as well and even from here he could make out the ugly, raw scars that stretched across her face marring her once easily tolerable features.

'It is a shame', he thought, 'the girl would likely have married well if she'd not been scarred; she'd not been considered unattractive before this. And her eccentricity is not ineludibly appealing,' he decided, 'not if one actually took the time to consider her on occasion wild ideas critically.'

After all, Luna Lovegood's opinions and beliefs were very often based in sound magical theory, and as it turned out ninety per cent of the time could not necessarily be disproved.

Severus frowned slightly; contemplating how the girl often made him consider how much stock anyone should put in widely pre-established and embraced beliefs. 'We should _all_ be prepared to think more outside the square from time to time,' he decided, and that thought made him in turn think about his recent and idiotic disagreement with Phoebe about his resurfacing old prejudices regarding Muggles. He was going to have to get his act together now that he had a family – a family not unlike the one he had grown up in; of blended blood. He could no longer fanny about sulking and wallowing in past hurts and ancient preconceptions. And he certainly didn't want to hand down the same legacy to his daughter as his father had to him. For really they behaved essentially the same, except Severus had once despised Muggles, whilst his father had resented Wizards; perspective only really separated them. His childhood had been harrowing and forged a lot of his bitterness; Severus wanted only happiness and security for Seraphoena's.

He nodded in acknowledgement to the young woman across from him as he caught her eyes and thought again that altogether Luna Lovegood really was an enchanting girl, and why should she have to suffer the rest of her life because of this? Severus immediately decided he would take some time to consider what, if anything, he could do to help her. As a Potions Master perhaps he might be able to suggest something the Mediwitch had yet to consider.

"You look as though you're feeling better, Sir. It's good to see," Luna said quietly, her voice weak and shaky. Severus only now realised that the girl must have seen him at his worst and how he'd coped with it all. He was slightly embarrassed at how he might have been perceived.

He met her gaze again and nodded; agreeing. "_Much_, Miss Lovegood, thank you," he responded to the badly scarred girl. He didn't think bringing up her marred appearance would be very tactful or constructive just now so left his comments at that.

"Seraphoena is _beautiful_… they let me see her," she said tiredly. "Congratulations, Sir."

Severus was stunned a little by the girl's generosity given her own circumstances and he swallowed down a lump that had formed in his throat. "Thank you… I am sure she has taken on all the attractiveness of her mother," he answered a little awkwardly.

"No… not all of her lovely features came from Phoebe," Luna responded immediately, before she turned her head and closed her eyes to rest.

Severus was quite overcome with the girl's very flattering frankness. Now she had closed her eyes he took the opportunity to peer a little more intently at her scars; wondering again if he might be able to do something of value to help her.

"I wish you a speedy recovery, Miss Lovegood," he offered softly to the resting girl.

Her lip curled up at one end a smidge. "Thank you, Sir," she said equally as quietly without opening her eyes.

After a few more moments gazing at the injured, young witch, Severus turned his attention in the direction of the Medi-witch's office, where he'd supposed Phoebe and his daughter had disappeared to. He felt a sudden frustration as he realised he couldn't even walk the several meters to check. It would have been much more convenient had he injured his arm instead of his leg, he decided with slight bitterness.

The sound of the main Infirmary doors opening distracted him and he turned to see Minerva returning with the Malfoy heir, who appeared quite well, although a little ruffled and dirty.

"Draco…" Severus began, but he found himself suddenly speechless.

"Sir," Draco responded, his tone hinted of surprise and wonder. "For a while I was afraid you must have died." The teenager came closer and sat on the chair next to the bed. Minerva stayed several meters away, evidently not wishing to intrude, but not willing to leave the young Death Eater alone with the vulnerable man just yet.

Severus shook his head. "No… not quite," he replied. He felt bad the boy had been waiting so long in worry, but admitting to him that he'd been forgotten was not the kindest explanation. "I was, however, in a bad way," he offered instead, and let Draco assume what he would from the statement.

Draco's eyes had skimmed down to his injured leg and he obviously noted the bulky bandages beneath his trousers.

"I'll recover, Draco," the dark man said.

"Yeah," the boy replied, nodding, "that's good."

The boy's demeanour was oddly subdued and Severus instantly wondered what other facts the boy wasn't aware of.

"I wanted to thank you… I cannot express how much it means to me what you did for me," Severus said earnestly.

Draco looked even more downcast. "I tried… but…" the boy's muttered statement dwindled off.

Severus gazed at him for a moment before correcting the boy. "You succeeded, Draco."

The blonde teenager snapped his eyes up to Severus' sharply. "What?"

Severus swallowed his own rising emotions. "They survived: Phoebe and my daughter. And I have you to thank for that."

Draco was clearly shocked by the news. "Really?" he questioned.

His former Head of House nodded. "Yes."

Draco huffed out an incredulous sigh. He took a few moments to process what he'd been told, then recaptured Severus' gaze. "A girl?" he asked, somewhat surprised.

Severus returned a small smirk and nodded again.

"Wow." Draco pushed suddenly to his feet and offered his outstretched hand to his former teacher. "Congratulations, Sir," he offered graciously, and Severus again marvelled at the pure-blood's manners; he'd been brought up impeccably when it came to the finer details of privileged life.

Before he could return his thanks Phoebe entered the ward from Madame Pomfrey's office with a swaddled bundle in her arms. She approached the bed and looked gratefully at the teenager shaking Severus' hand.

"Draco," Phoebe gushed. She passed the infant quickly off to her father and swooped suddenly on Draco before the startled boy had the chance to retreat. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and drew him into a thankful hug; kissing his reddening cheek for good measure. "Thank you so much. And I'm sorry and hope I didn't scar you for life by making you witness such a traumatic labour."

Phoebe released the boy and he fell back a step, looking a little scared right now. If Severus hadn't been so absorbed in the sight of his tiny daughter he might have chuckled at the look of the teen.

"Er… that's fine," Draco stammered, appearing quite wrong-footed.

Phoebe turned to Severus. "Well, let him see Seraphoena…" she turned back to the blonde teenager, "would to like to hold her?" she asked.

Severus felt slightly disappointed and annoyed at having the infant stripped from him again when Phoebe reached to scoop her up, but quickly he conceded to her intention. When things calmed down in a few days he hoped to have hours alone to dote on his tiny newborn.

Draco was shaking his head in the negative, but Phoebe didn't heed him, ushering him quite firmly back into his chair and handing him the swaddled child.

Once Draco had the baby securely in his arms Phoebe introduced her. "This is Seraphoena Eileen Snape. What do you think? She was worth it, wasn't she?" she asked, only now letting on that she was well aware of Draco's defection from the enemy camp for their benefit.

Seraphoena was squirming, having been passed around and not allowed to settle, and had managed to free one arm from her blanket which shot out and her tiny hand grazed Draco gently on his cheek.

He gasped lightly, then looked up to Phoebe and softly answered with a gentle nod, "Yes."

Draco then sought out Severus' gaze and after a few moments the dark man nodded to him. "I'm still looking out for you, Draco… no matter what."

Draco looked stricken and nodded back before gazing again at the infant in his arms. He lifted Seraphoena the short distance to his lips and kissed her lightly on her tiny forehead.


End file.
